


I chose you

by Radiklement



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Drama, F/M, Fluff, Romance, emotionally awkward, massive manga spoilers, pre-manga fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 149,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1479391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radiklement/pseuds/Radiklement
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had one goal, to become Fuhrer, which was also his curse. He was number 12, a puppet without strings. He was one sin: Wrath, held back and controlled. He had a mission: pretending to be human, when he had been for most of his life. He was given the name King Bradley, with all the chains that meant. He had one liberty, one choice that he could make. And it was her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Out there

I chose you – Chapter 1

He took one step forward, out in the open. Breathed in and out, slowly.

At first, he was surprised to see no walls. The horizon extending infinitely between the buildings of Central. He walked out of the lab. The scientists and doctors, the people who had raised him up for the sole purpose of creating the next Fuhrer, had changed him into clean clothes. They had given him an eye patch to hide his ouroborous tattoo. He still tried to adapt to look at the world with only one eye. He was still scared from dying back there. Wasn’t too sure of who or what he was.

A homunculus. A greater human. An almost perfect being. Wasn’t he the same guy as before? He still had the same mind. The same looks. But there was so much fury in his heart. So much anger for all that he’d been through, and at the idea that he’d been the only one to live through this, between all his old comrades. He didn’t like the others candidates. He hadn’t been raised to like them. But when he had seen them all dead, lying in a room, covered with blood, he had felt true fear. And now, he was still so scared. He had survived the wrath of his “father”. Meeting the said guy hadn’t meant much to him. He had tried to understand. But the wrath was so strong in him, it made it hard to listen.

He had briefly met his new brothers and sister. Envy, Glutonny, Pride and Lust. Sloth wasn’t there; he was already busy working for their father’s plan. As for Greed, he had betrayed them sometimes ago and was still on the run. The father didn’t care much for the moron, so there was no use going after him. As for himself, the new fuhrer was Wrath. Pure frustration. And the leader of the Amestris’ nation. In his confused mind, it barely made any sense. He had many new names instead of the number the scientists had used to refer to him. He was Wrath. He was a homunculus. He was the Fuhrer. He was also King Bradley. He didn’t know if he liked King. Bradley sounded almost human though.

“So then, Bradley, here is the capital of your country. You still have a lot to learn before you become the leader of this nation. But the worst part is done! Har har har!” the doctor laughed.

His laugh drove Bradley mad. He hated this guy. Hated him for talking to him like a dog. He felt as a pawn. Everything was planned for him.

“Come Bradley, you need a house now! And a wife also.”

He looked over his shoulder, back at the crazy doctor. Hatred burned in his heart, so strongly that it hurt. He had so many people to look after him, to make sure he was following the path already carved for him. So many bosses. How could they say he was the leader of this country if he had to answer to so many? How could they name him a king when he was their slave, forced to obey their petty rules?

He felt so much power in his blood. So much lives in him, that made him almost invincible. And still, he was bound, tied down, like a puppet.

“If this is my country... can’t I have a look around it?”

“You’ll have plenty of time later on, silly boy.”

His arm moved faster than he’d expected, as if the last stretch of patience in him had just shredded, and he caught the doctor by the throat, holding his very life in his hand, glaring at him.

“I’ll take the time now.” He said firmly.

Things were going on too fast. He needed time to accept all of this. To swallow down all his anger, so that he could remain calm. They had told him he had to set an example. That he would be given the right to kill as much as he wanted later. And even if it made him angrier just to think he was obeying, he wanted to wait. To collect his thoughts. To fight with this new, stronger anger. It was still his mind and his heart being angry. The only thing that had changed in him was the lives added to his own. He heard the souls crying in the back of his skull. They had started yelling and crying at the very moment he was injected with their liquid stone. He was now the vessel of his “father” ‘s wrath. But he still wanted to be an individual. He wasn’t just an extension of that said father. He had never met him before and now, just because the old fart had input a part of his sin into him, he belonged to him and was to follow his orders? As if! He had fought and sweated all this time to become the country leader. To have a better life. He had always fought to survive among the other candidates. And he had. So then, hadn’t he won any right? Couldn’t he be free to do as he will?

“But...!” the doctor tried to object.

“How can I become a leader if I don’t know how the humans act and live? I want to see them. See real people. Walk around the streets of the city.”

“You can’t...”

“It wasn’t a demand.” He added, letting his anger transpired in his voice.

“I can’t let you go and get los...!”

He was interrupted by the stronger grip of Bradley’s hand on his neck and started gasping for air.

“I’ve memorized Central’s streets configuration years ago. If I get lost, you’ll just have to find me. But pray that you don’t, ‘cause I won’t come back before that I feel like it, understood?”

After all, hadn’t they waited for years already to appoint him as the new fuhrer? They could still wait a few more days. A few more weeks. Even months.

“Ye... yes, sir.”

“That’s more like it.” Bradley smiled.

He let go of the doctor and walked away.

When he was far enough not to see the building where he had lived for most of his life, Wrath realized this was a mistake. He had never met any real normal people. He wasn’t even sure if they existed. But then again, he was supposed to lead other people. In this Central city, men and women were living to be ruled. He was their king. There were the future sacrifices for his father’s plan. But his mind was going further then that as he walked down the streets. Somewhere in this country, in this world, there had been a man and a woman who had brought him to life. He had been a real human as every of them, for most of his life. Now, he was in the next step of evolution. Or so the scientists said. But if he was so much greater, if he was a superman, why did he have to obey his teachers? He didn’t nurture much respect for them. Not after that they made him suffer so much. He yearned for something different. But he had no idea what.

He knew many words that had been nothing but words to him. Like friendship, justice and love. He knew those were ideals that thrived mankind. But he’d never experienced any of them. Never was given the right to.

“These are just more meaningless chains.” He thought out loud.

For once, he was given the right to talk to himself. And he tried to experience the feel of hearing his own voice. His voice which was supreme and could order anything to a soldier now. He barely knew that voice. Or maybe was it the Wrath inside him which made him unsure about who he’d been.

He walked around, experiencing the wind in his hair and the sun slowly setting down in the sky. There weren’t much people around. He crossed a bridge and stopped in the middle of it, spotting his reflection in the water. He had seen this guy before, reflected on his blade before that the sword got covered in blood. He realized that it was him. King Bradley. The perspective fuhrer who had won over all the others. The twelfth try. He blinked and bent down to look closer at his reflection. Raised one hand to touch the eye patch on his right side. Hesitated. Felt more anger building inside him. The souls yelling were hard to contain. So hard to silence down. He closed his eyes an instant. Reopened them and looked around him. Nobody around. He removed the eye patch. Slowly looked down at himself with his both eyes.

The red ouroborous tattoo on his eyeball was scary. It didn’t add up with his aqua blue iris. If he forgot that, he guessed that he looked good. Well, not that he knew anything about beauty. He used to think of his sword as something beautiful. The sun was nice too. And the moon. The wind. He liked maps too. He never thought of the other candidates as nice looking. They rarely talked to each other. Getting friends with those rivals wouldn’t do him any good. So he had lived alone, restrained behind walls for all of his life. And the question still lingered. Even if he knew everything about being a fuhrer, about using guns and swords and strategies, he felt so... So lost.

On an impulse, maybe coming from one of the souls crying within him, he tried to smile. It looked as creepy as those looks the scientists had for him when he won over another candidate. He tried again, to raise each side of his mouth, not too much. Why did he want to be able to smile? He knew he would have to pretend being human. And human were known for showing their emotions. Had he ever expressed anything else than utter concentration? His lips were thin and white from his anger.

This is what I am, he thought. An angry bundle of nerves unable to keep up his role.

And it was a role, being a fuhrer. He had to learn, to get himself a wife and a house, and to pretend he had had a normal life, with a family. This word scared him. He still tried to remember what a wife was. It involved a woman. He knew the scientists laughed when they talked about women. He had no idea why. He had never seen one for real. Only in books. And somehow, everything about his education seemed lacking suddenly.

He heard people laughing in the background. Quickly put back his eye patch and looked up, still confused. Laughing. He knew the word. Knew the sound. Had laughed one time or two. Barely. He knew laughs could be comforting. The souls in his mind were telling him so.

He hardly believed them though. He’d never liked it when the scientists laughed. It meant more hard work. And even if he was ready to go through anything, he could feel fatigue and pain. A shiver ran through his spine.

“I’m still lost.” He thought.

How he had always fought to be in control of everything around him... To no avail. A couple passed by him. He didn’t look at them, gazing down at the water under the bridge. Feeling their presence was enough. He heard another laugh. It was soft and sweet, somehow, and a man’s voice could never sound like that, he knew that much. So was it... a woman?

He looked over his shoulders, but the pair of human was already off on the other side of the bridge. He noticed a weird choice of clothing for one of the two people. Was that a dress? He shook his head. How could they send him in the world with still so many questions in his head? How could HE be so clueless? This was an insult to his fuhrer’s powers.

He turned around and resumed to his walk, stuffing his fists in his pockets. The wind kept on toying with his locks. His reflection walked next to him in the glasses from shop’s windows. His shadow followed him and disappeared consecutively as the lights changed. Street lamps, he thought. He fell in love with the feeling of this light. The sound of his boots on the stones’ streets. It felt soothing and peaceful. The souls in his mind had been forced to silence, because he had threatened to kill the next person he’d met if they kept on yelling.

He could finally think clearly again.

And then his eye met something new in the scenery. Someone was standing in front of one shop, dusting off the ground around it with a broom. She –because it had to be a woman, given the attributes he could see despite her dress and long coat- was looking rather young, and had long brown hair. Her eyes were green and... There was a light in them he’d never seen anywhere else. Was that... he referred to his new souls... Could this be kindness?

He knew what the word meant. It was the quality of someone who was kind. Did it mean anything? He was puzzled. And scared. Because this girl, or woman, was looking quite different than anything he had picture in his mind before. He had met Lust. Her looks hadn’t awaken anything within him. He had never learned to desire anything else than power. And even now, though something within him was touched just by the sight of this small human, off in her world of cleaning, he desired nothing but to regain power and control. Control over himself above all else!

“Hey you, woman!”

She jumped a little and looked around, her eyes widening. He stopped right in front of her shop, two or three feet away from her.

“Are you... are you talking to me?” she whispered, looking... surprised.

Bradley wondered why she seemed so shocked.

“Well, you’re a woman right?”

He felt stupid, but he was just stating the obvious. And it wasn’t obvious at all for him. Her green eyes showed him an emotion he recognized instantly. Anger. It felt almost reassuring.

“What... what’s your problem?” she asked, putting her broom in front of her, as if to shield herself from him.

He hesitated. Why had he talked to her in the first place? To ascertain his hypothesis? He wanted to slap himself now. The souls in his head were laughing at him. And it made him even angrier. His mouth opened to speak up, but nothing came out. He needed help. But a future fuhrer wouldn’t ask for help. He stared at the woman instead. Even if it was just with one eye, she noticed and got even angrier. Next thing he knew, she was slapping him in the face. He hadn’t expected that, and he tumbled backward, barely keeping his balance. And to his own surprise, his cheek burned him.

His new souls stopped laughing. He looked back at her, shaken. Nobody had ever raised a hand against him. At least, not without any prevention. He had been training for years to fight, and still, this small human could reach him and surprise him. And instead of anger, he came back to his senses. This “woman” was one of his people. She had feelings and he had certainly said or did something wrong to get her mad. She wasn’t Wrath. She was innocent. For the first time, he understood this word.

“I... I’m sorry.” He heard himself saying.

He didn’t know where this was coming. He had never said those three words. Or maybe once, but back when he was a child, if he did misbehave once; because he’d wanted to play instead of training and learning. He had forgotten the word “playing” since then. And suddenly, he felt as a child again, being lectured by his mom. The feeling was new and strange. He never had a mom or the need for one.

“I’ve been pretty rude, but I...”

“You’re drunk, is that it?” she retorted.

“Drunk?!” he repeated.

The young woman was looking at him with suspicion now.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted with what he hoped was at least a weak smile. “I just got back from the countryside and I got lost.”

“Are you a soldier?”

“More or less.”

He looked around, to find something that could help him. This was his first talk with a normal human being. He didn’t want to shame himself anymore than he’d already do. He read every signs and spotted the one on the building in front of which the woman had done her cleaning. Motel.

“I... I need somewhere to stay. Any place left here?”

“For jerks like you? Pffaa!”

She turned around, ready to walk back in the building. Bradley felt a mix of anger and panic within him. How could she treat him like that, he, the Fuhrer of his country? But at the same time, she didn’t know who he was. All she knew was that he’d called her a woman and had stared at her as if she was the first girl he’d ever seen.

“Wait! We can’t part like that. First I have to amend myself.”

She looked over her shoulder, surprised. He looked sincere. And slightly desperate at the same time. At this moment, she had no idea how surprised he was himself.

“You’re a really weird guy.”

“I’d hate to leave a bad impression on you, miss. So please, give me a chance to get your forgiveness. How about... a dinner?”

 _This ain’t gonna work_ , he thought to himself.

“You got some nerve, mister... Who are you anyway?”

“You can call me Bradley.”

“Alright, Bradley. I’m Amelia. But it will be miss Amelia for you.”

He nodded.

“You wanna stay here, but I bet you don’t have any money on you, right?”

Blinking, he realized he had forgotten about that too when he had “run away” from Golden Tooth.

“So then, do you know how to cook, Bradley?”

Anger perked back up, but he chased it away. This girl, Amelia, she had some nerves too. It was hard to predict how she’d act. And somehow, he liked that.

To be continued...


	2. Being Human

I chose you – Chapter 2

The first things he noticed inside the motel were the pictures on the wall. He had never seen such things. And the only thing he could think about it was that it looked nice. Nice. Another word he wasn’t too used to. He wondered how many more of them he was going to discover...

“How do you like chicken, Bradley?”

“Hmmm...”

He didn’t remember ever being asked if he liked the food he was given back at the institute. He knew it was some healthy food, though it tasted awful sometime. He had learned to swallow down most anything. He knew what was poisonous and what wasn’t. He remembered disliking chicken, because the chickens served at the institute were too small and then, he would remain hungry. Being hungry wasn’t nice. He had learned to live with starvation too, but he hated it.

“Should I be picky when I’m invited?” he retorted, trying to sound arrogant even if he still doubted himself.

He had learned many things, but was he cut out for such a situation?

“A yes or a no could have done the trick, you know?” she retorted, looking over her shoulder.

Her braid danced on her back. At first, Wrath had thought it was stupid to keep hair growing so long, but suddenly, he realized why it was for. It made her pretty. It was still stupid. But there weren’t many pretty things in his world. And none was pretty in the same way as this girl. His blade was sharp and efficient. A map held lots of adventures, unknown things, and strategies to defeat the enemy. But this woman... She looked so alive. He liked how her braid moved from one side to the other as she walked, how it followed her moving hips. He had never seen a guy walking like that. It felt different also. Was it because of her shoes?

Bradley was totally puzzled. And the souls in his mind remained quiet; surprised by the way he was discovering the world. He was like a child for such simple things! A few of them laughed, but Wrath contained his anger at them. He was focusing on the here and now. This was his first test and he wanted to know if he could pass as a real human being. After all, he’d been one for most of his life!

He followed the woman into the kitchen. He had been in a kitchen before and remembered it as a laboratory. But here, everything was different. There were colors on the walls. Good smells in the air, smells he’d never tasted before. His good eye widened in surprise. How was it he could still feel so many things, when he was invincible? How could everything around him reach him so easily if he was...

“Do you have a tendency to zone out, Bradley?”

“What... no, I...”

His souls told him to lie quickly, to hide the truth. He tried to quiet them down, but they insisted and gathered on the right side of his head, creating a sudden pain in his right eye. He raised one hand to cover the black patch. And the lie came to him just like that.

 _These souls are clever_ , he thought.

“I’m still having trouble to adapt seeing things with only one eye.” He sighed.

He didn’t like the feeling he had he was complaining, but it wasn’t an entire lie. Though, as Amelia’s face whitened, he wondered if he’d chosen the wrong lie. Was she going to faint or something? Were humans really that weak?

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She replied. “I’m being quite rude...”

“No need to apologize, miss Amelia.”

She gave him a weak smile at the way he said her name. From the pirate who had yelled at her out on the street, he was turning into quite a gentleman. She wondered what that could be hiding. Did he yell out of pain back then? He looked so confused when she slapped him.

They stood in silence for a moment, contemplating each other, their mind filled with different question, till she turned around to face her oven and get busy with the cauldrons already fuming.

“Remember you’re supposed to help with the dinner, right?”

He nodded by reflex, though she couldn’t see him and walked up to stand before the counter, right next to her.

“What can I do?” he asked.

And though his souls were laughing at him, since he was lowering his glorious superior self to obey a simple human, he didn’t feel mad. This was merely a test. And he was going to pass. He couldn’t have it any other way.

She had him cutting a few vegetables. It was quite easy, since he was a king at manipulating any sort of blade. She talked about the temperature and the motel’s clients. She had one anecdote on every person. And on every weather. He laughed as she explained how her umbrella had “run away” from her once, when the rain was pouring like ropes from the sky and how the wind was blowing. She mentioned having one hell of a cold from that. And his laugh died down a little as she mentioned it. His mind was running so fast, his brain was going to burn. Could he still catch a cold after all that he’d been through?

Amelia kept on talking. She talked a lot. At first, he thought it was pretty irritating. But then, as his souls were chattering together, commenting her features, her cooking, his own skill at peeling carrots and potatoes –which wasn’t as easy as just cutting them- he realized listening to her unstoppable blabber had one big advantage. It seemed to shut out all the noise in his head. So he focused on her voice. Such a nice ring to this voice.

“Alright then, everything’s ready!” Amelia said suddenly, clapping her hand together one time.

Bradley jumped at the noise. He had tried setting up the table as she’d instructed him, but he had no idea why they needed something else than a fork and a knife. And he also knew he was certainly putting the glasses on the wrong side or stuff. The scientists were supposed to give him his etiquette class after that he became Fuehrer...

Nevertheless, they sat in front of each other after that Amelia served every part of the meal in the dishes.

“Bon appétit!” she cheerfully said.

Bradley just stared at her, unable to believe that someone so lively existed. He didn’t know if she was a normal human anymore. Was it his lack of knowledge over women, or was she anything but your average woman?

“Go on, dig in!” she then said, realizing he was waiting to attack the meal.

He took the hint. As he ate, he slowly forgot to think over all the new aspects to his homunculus body. He could still feel hunger, well, right about now. Would it wear off one day? He shrugged off the thought. At least, the chicken tasted good. And for once in his life, the company was nice.

“Everything’s to your taste?”

He nodded, chewing down more chicken and potatoes.

“So you’re a soldier? You’re looking quite young.”

“Oh, so being soldier involves being old?” he retorted.

He didn’t know it, but he almost sounded humoristic as he said that.

She shook her head, smiling slightly, until that her smile turned upside down.

“It’s just hard to see people running to their own deaths.”

She said that without looking at him, and for an instant, Wrath was angry to lose her attention. But he didn’t ask her why she would say something like that. Her petty reasons didn’t interest him. He was here to test himself, not to get involved with humans that he would rule over later.

He kept on eating, slowly savouring every tastes of her cooking. He wasn’t used to spices. It burned his tongue, but he liked it. Gosh, he was starting to like a great deal of stuff.

“You’re not really talkative, Brad, are you?”

She had quickly taken the liberty of calling him Brad. Was it to get a reaction from him, or just because this woman easily become friendly? How could everything she did be a hint to something else? Why was he trying to interpret anything that she did?!

 _‘Cause I need to understand her if I want to understand every other human..._ , he admitted to himself.

“I’m not a very... social guy.” He said, looking terribly serious.

It was an understatement, but how else should he explain it? Was he supposed to talk? About what? What did human talked about usually?

“Ha ha ha!” she laughed. “Oh, I had understood that already. Ha ha ha ha!”

He frowned as she kept on laughing, because he couldn’t understand what had been funny in his last sentence. Then, he realized her laughter wasn’t looking as comfortable as before, and it turned into a cough. His souls stopped commenting the food and his dumb reactions to observe the scene. Her cough was getting persistent and seemed quite painful. She grabbed her throat and he looked down at the chicken in her plate, wondering...

 _Did a bone take the wrong turn?_ , he wondered.

“I... it...argh!”

She got up, looking for air now, clearly strangling herself. Her chair fell back on the floor with a loud thud, as if to get Wrath back to reality.

Tears were coming out from her eyes from the pain in her throat and Bradley jolted to his feet. He acted on instinct, almost jumping to the other side of the room, so that he could stand behind the woman. His arms quickly got around her body and he joined his hands, to do the right pressure on her stomach. His souls told him not to exert too much strength, so that it wouldn’t kill her. He growled to himself, and swung his joined hands under her ribcage. Two or three shots were enough to get her to spit out the chicken bone stuck in her throat. But he kept his arms around her, because she wouldn’t have been able to stand.

She breathed in and out, swallowing back her tears, shivering next to him. He realized to his own surprise that he was out of breathe too, and that his heart was beating fast in his chest. Something within him, not the souls this time, was telling him that she could have died from this. And this was a scary thought. Humans were so fragile a single and puny bone could mean their end? But even so, wasn’t she alive now? He could felt her warmth through her clothes. She smelled like some flowers he’d never smelled. His mind froze an instant. Flowers? Had he ever seen flowers in something else then books? No, there had been another time. A vague memory reached out, but the souls started yelling together, as if it scared them. He shut them up mentally, wondering if there was a way to get rid of them. He focused on Amelia, still in his arms.

She was slowly coming back to her senses. Looked up, still breathing heavily. Her hands fell on his arms. He had never felt such a soft skin brushing against his. And despite the surprise and the nice feeling it gave him inside, he didn’t like the impression of losing control over himself. She was too close. And at the same time, he couldn’t see any good reason to let her go. She leaned onto him as she breathed in and out.

“Oh my gosh... I scared myself for an instant.”

She looked up at him, bending her head and he was stunned to see her smile.

“Thanks for rescuing me like this!” she whispered.

Her cheeks were red and Bradley could bet he was blushing too, though he had no idea why. Men, those scientists were going to have a whole lot of questions to answer him. Did becoming a homunculus mean turning into an idiot? He had always been brilliant, so why... why was he so helpless in front of this woman?

“It... it was my fault if you strangled yourself.” He observed, looking away, but keeping her in his arms.

“You shouldn’t react like that.” She retorted. “I’ll thank you if I want, and when someone does, you just acknowledge it by saying welcome. Stop acting so serious and stuck up. Loosen up a little.”

“I... Just... WHAT are you?” he asked her.

She ignored his questions.

“Well, it was really gallant to save me, but could you let go of me now?”

“Why?”

“Well, cause it’s embarrassing.” She said under her breath, looking down.

He let her go, trying to understand why it could be embarrassing. She took a few steps away from him, just to feel freer and then, looked at him from over her shoulder.

“Well, let’s try this again.”

She turned on herself, clasped her hands together and bowed down to him.

“Thanks, Bradley.”

His first reaction was a mix of pride and panic. Had he made a mistake by saving her? Had he become responsible of her or something? How did this country work, how did those people work? What exactly was going in her mind?

She stood up straight, staring at him intently. She was expecting a reaction to her thanks.

“I... It was nothing.” He retorted, looking sideways.

He was still persuaded she didn’t have to thank him. And it was weird being thanked. It was his first time ever. He knew it stood to be polite, but it was different. It was... honest. And it scared him.

“Aww, it’s already better, but we still got work.”

“We...? What work?”

“You said you weren’t a very social guy! We’re gonna fix that. With my teachings, you’ll be able to approach someone the proper way and make friends. Since you’re a soldier, you’ll need friends to look after you.”

 _What... what is she going on about? Why does she care?_ He wondered, annoyance and excitement mixing together in his chest.

“You don’t owe me anything...” he tried to say, so to be saved.

She looked like a stubborn woman and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to remain in her company. She was maybe a little too lively for him. Or was that just his souls telling him to run for his life before that she got him in her trap. What trap, he wondered. The human who could trap King Bradley was certainly not born. He was the future ruler of the nation, a woman wasn’t going to decide for him what to do or...

“I’ll decide that. You’re a weird guy, but you’re kind. You were all lost when you arrived here. You’re just back from the battlefield, right? You need to take some time for yourself, some time to heal up. You can stay here. You’re a good cook. And you saved my life. That sure owed you one of our best room!”

At this point, he didn’t know why he wanted to object anymore.

“So how about it, you help me in the kitchen, you keep me company and try to be a little more social and I’ll feed you and give you a room for as long as you want to stay. How’s that sound?”

 _Alright, she’s crazy_ , he thought.

But he didn’t mind. The souls had stopped whining, saying he was already lost beyond saving. And well, he was getting pretty good at being lost, so was that really something to worry about?

“If we skip the social part, I guess I could stay for a while.”

Amelia smiled. And this time, Bradley smiled back without being surprised about it. Was it how it felt, being human? To be able to smile like that, without forcing it at all? To feel lighter inside? His souls remained silent.

“How about some dessert then?”

He refrained himself from asking it out loud, wondering once more: _A dessert? What’s that?_

To be continued...


	3. Low on strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley gets impatient and realize his designed life will test his controlled anger in more than one way.

I chose you – Chapter 3

“You did what?!”

Bradley had spent a whole week living at Amelia’s motel before that the army managed to find him and took him back. He had willingly followed Envy, who was disguised as a soldier for the occasion. Parting from his hostess had been harder than expected, since he had grown fond of her smile, of her cooking lessons and of her suggestions about how he should live to be accepted by others. He had even made friends with a few humans. A baker, one grumpy janitor and a lady who had lost a son during the war.

He hadn’t done much effort. Just being his cynical secretive self had worked. Amelia had congratulated him for those friends and for every achievement he made. It had made him so happy, he couldn’t begin to understand how she could impact so much over him. But he didn’t care. He couldn’t mind feeling happy. Even if the feeling was new and still terrifying.

“You lived amongst human? One week with those animals?” Envy hissed, unable to believe something so horrifying was even possible.

“Don’t forget that Wrath was once a human himself. Not too long ago.” Lust observed, sitting on Glutonny’s left shoulder.

Envy raised his shoulders, shaking his head.

“But still, to run away from Father like that, just to enjoy himself with petty humans...”

The said father was sitting in the back of the room, in his throne, his back still attached to countless tubes and wires. It was only thanks to his awful training that Bradley could look at his “Father” and not get the creeps. There was a twisted, ominous feeling that came to him whenever he would look at that guy...

“I can see why he’d want to study his own kind. It’s alright Wrath. It’s quite funny in fact, that even if you inherited my ultimate anger, you can remain so calm. You’ll make a good fuhrer when the time comes.” Father said.

Bradley didn’t move or react. He knew what a subordinate was supposed to do before his master. Even if having a master after all that he’d been through drove him mad with anger. He looked as impassive as his self-called Father.

Envy tried to calm himself, but he was rarely calm. It was so hard to stay quiet when there were so many things to envy to others and to hate.

“There’s one thing I won’t permit you, Wrath. If you run away from us and try to act as Greed did, we’ll dispose of you. You’d better obey me. As long as you do, you’ll be able to do the rest as you like. You’re supposed to act as a human and as a soldier. You’re gonna enter the army officially and you’ll fight in the upcoming battles out on the front. You’ll cover yourself in glory. And in a few years, when you’ll fit the criteria, you’ll be named Fuhrer.”

 _In a few years?!_ Bradley thought to himself.

Now, this was infuriating! Hadn’t he lived only for this one title all his life? Hadn’t he already earned it?! His expression must have changed for an instant, because Father noticed his anger and raised one hand.

“The humans can’t change their leader in one single day. You’ve still got a lot to learn, Wrath, so keep yourself collected and work hard to achieve my goals.”

Did the old man realize what he was saying was even more shocking? That HE had to work for someone else’s goals? Where was his real gain in all of this? Where was the destiny painted for him, of a live, where he would rule over the world? He wanted it for himself. He had never been a pawn. Or well, he’d never wanted to be one. But when had he a choice in any matter? Even the clothes he was wearing had been chosen for him.

He swallowed down his pride, and everything that once made him human, standing lifeless before his “father”. And if hate could be incarnated on earth, he had to be the closest thing to it. Because behind the cold look on his face, forged after years of never being smiled at and never having to smile at someone, beneath it laid so much anger, Bradley thought he could blow up if he dared to move. His souls were angrier than him, if it was possible, and their furious ramblings drove him even madder.

 _Why am I your puppet?_ , he wanted to ask. But he kept it shut. Because he had been beaten to learn that keeping it shut was the only choice he had. Because being alive was his only real gift in this miserable life. And if he was so greater than other human, if he wanted to learn more and to live and experience more, the only thing to do was to agree with this...man.

 _There’s no rights in this world,_ Wrath thought. _There’re only brutal feelings, rushing through my veins. And laws to bind me, to turn me into his slave. And as long as this man... this thing... will be my father, I’ll be a slave. Dammit!_

“Alright Father. When do I get started?” he asked, faking a smile.

Envy looked surprised by Wrath’s reaction. There was something, untrue about his expression. Something almost creepy in the way he closed his only eye, talking as if he was going off for a walk. This new homunculus was weird. It was the first time Father attached the stone to a real human after all. How could this turn out?

“Today, of course. The scientists will guide you. And if you’re to stray, Envy will set you straight, with Lust’s help.”

Lust winked at Bradley, and for some reason, the young man felt something within him, close to repulsion. This over dimensioned woman felt so artificial. Her whole body called out for the desire of man, every of her poses and gestures. But more than lust, she exuded death. And King still feared death, even if he had seen it from close up more than once. After tasting the sweet and gentle presence of Amelia, he had tried to understand women in general. His first assumptions were that this specific type of human was simply unpredictable. All of them, without any exceptions. But they were still pretty different.

There were tall ones and other that were smaller, thinner, or larger. Some were uglier to his taste, and other, like Amelia, could have him wrapped around their little finger with just a word. Well, up to now, Amelia was the only one with this much power over him. And he wasn’t exactly her slave. He always chose to do whatever he did when he was with her. And it made her all the more special.

 _You already miss her, moron_ , his souls told him.

He denied them. He didn’t know what missing meant. Had no use to miss anything, since he’d never been given anything, but shelter, education and food... What was more important than that? Freedom? Why was he getting all worked up on a silly notion?

...

Bradley walked into the barracks where a few real humans were already waiting for a mission to be given to their squad. He had been lectured by the guys in white; so called scientists, that he was starting to hate cordially. He slowly realized that quite anything could get him mad. The stings in the air shocked his noses. His sensibility or well... the accuracy of his senses was driving him crazy. He could see too many things, way too clearly. His hearing seemed overdeveloped. He wanted to hide somewhere, where his senses wouldn’t be stimulated, where he would be able to stand in peace and quiet. Like during this brief week he spent at Amelia’s motel.

Being a homunculus wasn’t only fun. And his tainted eye would hurt every now and then, whenever his souls got too worked up... He hated it. It felt as if he hated everything. And still, he forced himself to stay in control. Because everything was a question of control. This anger and this hatred weren’t only coming from his good old self. It was part of that creepy “Father” guy. If he could control it, then, he would be stronger than him, who had just dejected the feelings he had into new individuals he turned into his pawns.

In the barracks, he was first met by a tall blond man, with the hint of a moustache under his nose, but still way too young to have any hairs on his chest.

“Hey, you’re the new guy from the war school, right? Bradley sir?”

First lesson he’d been lectured about was to present himself as a soldier, so he took his stance, straightening his back.

“Sergeant King Bradley, sir!” he barked back.

“Wow, they sure teach you to be uptight in the war school...” a guy laughed in the back.

Bradley wondered if he hadn’t been clear enough, or if his yell hadn’t been strong enough. He cleared his throat, not too sure of what he should think of other men. He had always seen them as rivals before. But these were comrades. So he had to see them otherwise, hadn’t he? His head started to ache...

“I’m second lieutenant Grumman,” the blond man presented himself with a slight nod of approval. “Our first lieutenant and leader is that weirdo sitting on the third bed, there. Lieutenant Kimblee.”

“It’s Wolfgang, for friends.” The thin and dark-haired man said, grinning in a weird way.

Wrath wasn’t sure if he should smile back or just remain stern. He chose the latter.

“We’re the only one here right now from the squad. The higher-ups are still selecting men to send with us out in front.” Grumman mentioned.

“And they found’em!” a laughing voice said in his back.

He turned on his heels, furrowing his eyebrows. A young woman, about his age at least, was standing in a military uniform, giving them a proper salute, smiling at the same time.

“Sergeant Juliett Mustang, at your service, guys!”

Bradley noticed a ring shining on her ring finger, though he could only guess the meaning of such a jewel. He was more surprised by the fact a woman could be in the army. Weren’t they better doing paperwork? There hadn’t been any of them raised as perspective Fuehrer. And they could be so fragile, how could they be soldiers?

Grumman smiled for real this time, already charmed.

The woman was averagely framed, but her skin was cream white, and her dark eyes were determinate and strong. She had long dark hair, tied up in a bun behind her head. She had some kind of exotic look about her, with her slightly slanted eyes. She was cute, in a way. More familiar than the two men that were still rivals in Bradley’s mind. Should he fear women?

 _Of course you should, moron!_ His souls warned him.

He felt anger rising up again. Who do they think they were, calling him names? If he wasn’t there, these petty souls wouldn’t be able to talk or to see stuff.

Along the day, five more soldiers, all men, showed up to add themselves to the squad. Bradley learned they were the twelfth squad. 9 soldiers working under Kimblee’s orders, who himself was obeying a lieutenant-general. They were to be sent at the borders, to fight against a country which tried to invade Amestris. Wrath knew, thanks to his “Father”; that this invasion had been caused by Envy alone, which seemed to be the trigger to every war that Amestris had seen through its upbringing. This war was a pure human extermination to make another crest of blood on the map of the country. A purge, more or less. Whoever died on either side didn’t matter. All that was important was the number of victims. Millions of them were needed. And as he looked at his new comrades, Bradley tried to accept it. Those young people, not older than him, were all going to die. He was the only one who had to survive, since he had to become Fuehrer, so that his Father plan could be seen to right.

 _Why do I feel this is wrong? Why do I feel so... small?_ , he wondered.

Grumman tapped him on the shoulder.

“News arrived. We’re leaving tomorrow, first thing in the morning. If you have anywhere you want to go before that time, now’s the time.”

Bradley was surprised to see some of the guys leaving alone, saying they were going to see their girlfriend, or families. Five men decided to go drink together, to get to know each other better. Since he had no idea where to go himself, he followed them, thinking it would be a good chance to practice himself at getting along with real human.

...

Wrath discovered after five drinks that alcohol didn’t fit him. He still jumped whenever someone tapped on his right shoulder, coming up on him from his blind side. His senses were growing dull from the drunken feeling and he didn’t know any song the other guys were singing. Some of his souls were drunk already, just from the smell floating in the air. And it felt so lonely, even if he was with other people. Where was his place here? He was supposed to rule over them, but he was still working among them, preparing himself to risk his life, as any of them. He had no high rank, he was merely a sergeant, a nobody. He couldn’t say where he was coming from or talk about childhood memories. Being slightly drunk made it harder to lie.

Before that things get out of control, he left, to walk out in the fresh night, so that his mind would clear up. He needed a change of scenery. He needed more time to collect his thoughts. He needed a whole lot of things that were all denied to him. Before that he knew it, his feet had walked all the way from the bar to Amelia’s motel. He hadn’t even plan to go there. It wasn’t as if she was going to welcome him with arms wide open. He was a soldier, and she seemed to despise war. Even if she was nice with him, when he had left with Envy disguised as a soldier, she had looked... distant.

As if his thoughts had called her out, Amelia come out from the motel, and let out a small cry of surprise as she spotted him, standing right in front of the building.

“Brad! Why didn’t you knock?”

“What... I... Should I’ve knocked?”

Why could she make him feel so unsure of himself? Why couldn’t she just say hi?

“Oh, you weren’t sure if you wanted to see me again, is that it?” she suggested, looking away, her eyes turning watery and her face pale.

And all those changes made his heart twinge, because all he wanted was to see her smile, so that all the rest could be bearable. And he felt stupid. Maybe was he stupid. Hadn’t he the obligation to be stronger than that? Shouldn’t he have no care at all for what that woman thought?

“Why, yes... I meant... No! Wait, don’t... don’t try making fun of me!”

She laughed at his hasty reaction, before to walk up to him.

“You still have trouble guessing when people are joking Brad. You’re way too serious for your own good.”

“Don’t tell me how I should be.” He retorted, trying to regain composure.

She shook her head, before to replace his uniform which was untidy from drinking with the other soldiers.

“You’ve been drinking. You smell like alcohol. Does this mean you’re leaving to fight?”

His throat went dry from the sudden proximity. Why was she acting so familiar with him? Was she like that with every other soldier she met? It couldn’t be, after all, he had seen her with other guys, and she was way more distant with them. So why was he a special case? And why did he want to be special for her?!

“My new squad is leaving for the front lines tomorrow.” He admitted.

Her hands fell down to her side and she shivered, looking away from him.

“So you’re really a soldier. You’re going to fight and to kill people to defend us.”

The way she said it, it sounded awful. As if he was a monster. And since he was, in human standards, it hurt him deeper than expected. Why did he care what she thought?

 _We’ve warned you, but you didn’t listen, homunculus!_ The souls retorted.

 _I’m more than that,_ he wanted to yell. _I’m way more than that!_

But Amelia wouldn’t understand and he couldn’t have her fearing him. So he forced on a smile, and gently lifted her chin, with one of his fingers, so that she would look at him. Because never mind how panicked she may make him feel, he still could act in front of her. And he could face her wide green eyes.

“I didn’t come to get pity from you. I don’t want anything in fact”, he added, his souls telling him that this could be misinterpreted. “I... Thank you for taking care of me during the last few days, Miss Amelia.”

Her eyes widened from that and she blushed awfully, which made her look quite cute, cuter than Juliett Mustang in fact.

“Don’t... don’t mention it, it was nothing.”

“Why are you blushing then?”

“Why aren’t you still lost and blabbering Brad, instead of making me look like a fool!” she retorted.

But despite her faked anger, she smiled at him. That woman understood many things. Even if he didn’t talk that much. And as he smiled to her, he knew it was a real smile, coming from his heart.

“It’s thanks to you, Miss.”

Her cheeks flushed even more.

“You’re one weird guy, Brad. But you can call me Amelia now. Well, not right now, but if you come back from this war, you’ll earn the right to!”

 _We got a winner!_ The souls tried to cheer him.

Bradley barely heard them. He was too focused on smiling at Amelia.

“You’re one weird woman yourself.” He retorted, chuckling.

“Oh, I know that.” She giggled.

And for the first time in his life, Bradley thought that he didn’t want to go and fight.

“It’s fun to see you can still laugh and smile even though you’re one hell of a moody guy.”

“I’m not moody!” he retorted.

“Well, moody or not, you’d better keep that smile of yours even after the war. Smiles ease pain. Laughing means you’re alive.”

 _What is she going on about?_ He wondered.

“Miss Ame...”

“How long is this fight going to last?” she asked him, all back to serious suddenly.

“I don’t know.” He replied.

And though he wanted to sound sure of himself and strong, there was a frailty in his voice that hinted that leaving worried him.

“Then, try not to forget me.”

“I don’t think I could.”

Her smile came back, weak and frail. And Bradley had to fight with himself not to open his arms and hug her. He wasn’t sure he could leave if he did. He wasn’t sure if she’d accept a hug from him, when they were only friends. Cause that was what this was, right?

“You’re a good man, Bradley. Don’t change, okay?”

_You don’t know me, Amelia. I’m not sure to know myself anymore. But if that’s a good man you see in me, I’m willing to be it. And I won’t let anything change me anymore._

To be continued...


	4. War dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley is faced with the horrors of war and of his own lies.

I chose you – Chapter 4

There had been only pain at first. That was what life was about, after all. Bradley remembered crying in protest though. So this went back to a long time ago. He tossed and turned in his sleep. The memories were strong, stronger than the nightmares from his numerous souls; because he was still one sole being. But in his dream, he felt betrayed. Attacked by everything surrounding him. This world was too cold. He wanted to go back in the warmth, where no light could reach him and hurt his eyes! He felt small. And it hurt, how it hurt, to breathe, to cry, to live!

Then the pain was eased by a presence he knew deeply, because it was the one who had given him birth. He couldn’t tell where he touched her, but he could feel her warmth at new. He knew she was a she. Her voice told him so. She smelled like home. She was the only thing he knew in this life. And after the terrible fight they had fought for him to get out, peace was falling slowly, as he breathed in and out, accepting his surroundings.

“Hush, hush.”

No idea what the voice meant with her words, but he loved her. He yawned with his own small voice and snuggled in his mother’s embrace. His small eyes couldn’t see far, but he saw something in a corner of the room as he blinked, readying himself to sleep. A window was showing him the blue sky from the outside world. There was a pot with a flower inside it. And he could smell its sweet scent. How good it smelled. How good it felt. Awaking to the world, like a flower. He smiled in his sleep. That was true peace. What had gone wrong after that day he barely remembered, so far back he wasn’t sure if he could remember it still tomorrow morning? What had gone wrong? To think there had been a moment in his life when he belonged in this world. Or had he made it up since he was a child, just to feel better with himself?

_I once had a mother, like every other human. I once was human. And I still am. But something still feels wrong..._

...

Bradley was sitting in a trench, a gun in his left hand, his right hand clasped on his sword’s hilt. It had been a month since they started fighting. He hadn’t gotten a chance to get himself washed up for the last three weeks. He stanched of blood, sweat and dirt, like every of his comrades and enemies. It was late in the night. Too dark to see for human eyes, except his eyes were better. He had realized that he was more skilled than average human, but it wasn’t thanks to the stone in his body. Since he had fought it so much, it hadn’t given him all it could. He had learned the hard way that taking a blow would hurt as much as it did before. He could survive it though. And he only had been shot once since the start of the fighting. Grumman had looked amazed that he could still stand and run and shot back at the enemies.

Even if they were fierce and persevered, the other soldiers amongst his squad weren’t as good as him. The general sending them to fight always repeated that only the strong survived. And Bradley believed it. That was why, on the nine men of their squads, only four of them was left, including him. The lieutenant Kimblee and Grumman had held up pretty well and this Mustang girl was something else. She had the eyes of a killer and didn’t laugh anymore, but hell, she packed a punch and she knew how to aim and fire. She often covered them while they would rush in the enemies’ rank. When he had first pulled out his blade instead of a gun, she had mocked him.

Now, she realized he was so fast and strong that rushing in with his swords was way more deadly for the enemy’s ranks than any of their old gun. He could take a whole army alone. And whenever he started to fight, Bradley finally felt that he belonged. His instincts would take over and he would live for real.

He could see farther than any man. His only eye was sharper. He was able to dodge bullets, though his comrades in arms said he was one hell of a lucky guy. He ran on the battlefield, like a madman. Dived between two tranches, rolling in the mud and dirt. He churned on his cheeks’ inside, trying to muster his impatience. He wanted to move, to warm his body. He wanted to cut through flesh so that fewer enemies could fire back when he’d get up. And he wanted to get up, so that he could stop feeling his articulations aching under his weight. Sitting on his heels all day long was testing his overstrained muscles. He could endure the pain. Any pain was nothing compared to the stone ravaging his body, killing him and reconstructing him.

He still remembered. And he was almost grateful that most of his nightmares were about that terrible day when he became a human homunculus. Because he had seen his share of people dying. More than his share. And even if he told himself he would get used to it, he couldn’t.

One day, their enemies had managed to get through their border and captured hostages in a village from the frontier. Women and kids had been murdered, in inhuman ways. Walking among those corpses to find the foreign soldiers and get them had been a terrible test. The Mustang woman hadn’t been able to hold back her tears. Grumman had looked shocked himself. Kimblee seemed to find it only another good reason to kill. And while Bradley tried to repeat himself that only the strong survived, and this was as thing should be, because those civilians were weak, and thus, dead... He was angry with himself. The women reminded him of Amelia. Amelia who was also weak, but who didn’t deserve to die just for that. And what was logic about this? Because people were stranger, it was easier to see them senseless on the ground?

Bradley had never felt so close to break up. So this was what war was about. This was the true meaning of hatred, fear and unfairness. This feeling in his burning heart, this impression that there was no reason good enough to explain such slaughter... And he was even more disgusted, since he knew the petty reason his “Father” had. One thing wanted to become perfect. And that thing was ready to sacrifice everything around it, just to reach its goal. And he was an instrument in this grand and pathetic scheme.

It was at this point that Bradley decided thinking about it wasn’t doing him much good. So he kept on fighting, as his three comrades and the other soldiers around him, for one sole reason. To survive, so a new day would come. A day without war, without blood, where he could stand without fear, and just forget everything...

“Is there someone waiting for you, back home?” a soldier asked their group, as they were sitting in the night, around a small fire.

It was too late to fight, and on either side, every soldier was way too exhausted to think of attacking.

“I got my husband.” Juliett whispered. “Though I’m not sure he’ll like what he’s going to see when I’ll be back.”

“You’re as pretty as you were when we left, Jul’.” Grumman observed, winking at her.

“Yeah, somehow, I’m still in one piece after all that happened. Don’t stare at me like that, Eli Grumman!”

“Still, to be married already, when you’re so young! All the crazy nights of your young days, already gone!” Eli added, fake tears rolling down his cheeks.

“You’re talking like an old man! What’s the problem about being married? Lloyd is the man of my life.” Juliett retorted, throwing a boot at Grumman’s face.

He dodged it, of course, smiling and Bradley couldn’t help but smile too. These two were always fighting. Kimblee said it was their way of being friends. It felt odd. But it was nice too.

“She’s as feisty as us, but she’s still a lil’ girl when it comes down to it.” A soldier joked.

And they laughed, because they were all glad they could still talk about love and human things, even if this was war.

“What about that Lloyd huh? How did you met him?”

“Okay guys, get off my case! I told you all a week ago.” Juliett observed, blushing slightly.

“She’s right, someone else should tell us a good story. What about you, Bradley? Got someone waiting for you back home?”

They rarely wanted to hear about anything else. It was funny, how they were attached to this kind of detail. If a guy had a letter to write to his girlfriend, or his mother, everyone around the camp would make everything possible for the letter to be sent and received.

“Kind of...” was all he replied at first.

They rarely asked for his opinion, since he was still acting pretty cold, even if he was just as traumatized as every of them.

“Oh come on, man, that’s something!”

“Look at this, look at him, Brad is blushing! That’s gotta be a girl, then, I bet she’s a cutie and she’s all over his dark side!”

“What are you talking about?” Bradley protested.

What was that dark side that guy talked about? And why was he blushing furiously?

“Come on, tell us about her!”

“Well... She just asked me not to forget her, so...” he retorted, looking away.

For some reason, he couldn’t resist the urge to answer them. To prove that in some way, he was normal, as every of them.

“Awww, she’s sweet!”

“How come you never mentioned her before?”

“That’s because... I don’t want to think about her here...” he replied, as the guys were already starting to bet over naughty things about Bradley and the woman who wanted him to remember her.

Juliett, who was sitting right next to him, smiled and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“You’re a good man, Brad... I understand your feeling, but, still... You can dream of that girl, to help you go on. It’s... all of this... It’s pretty harder than I’d expected.”

“Nobody ever said it would be easy.” He retorted, surprised to hear the young woman confide anything at all to him.

She closed her eyes, forcing a smile. Her long hair was untied and floated in the air as a gush of wind blew over their little campfire.

“I don’t want my husband to see me with those eyes. I thought I could create peace for the people to come...” she sighed.

“Peace will come, Juliett.”

 _Liar_ , his souls whispered to him. _You know all too well what is coming. And it’s far from peace._

He silenced them with threats, to be able to understand what the woman was muttering.

“After so much rain though...” she sighed before to look away.

And Bradley could see the teardrop running down her cheek before that her hair hid her face. And his heart twisted, because all she had wanted was so pure and fair. He was a part of the plan that caused this war; a part of the machination which was destroying each of their lives. And he tried to repeat himself, that as him, these humans were only pawns. That only the strong survived. But he trusted Juliett Mustang and Eli Grumman and even Kimblee with his life. When he would run into the enemy, they would fire with him; they would cover his escapes and his charges. They were part of his team. They were no rivals here on the battlefield. He had learned many new words with them. Many new senses attached to every of this words. Friend... Foe... Pain... Loss...

He was slowly understanding the importance of strategy. The lack of strategy in their general’s orders drove him mad. They were sent to butcher up the enemy soldiers, and they were butchered themselves.

 _This war is taking place just for deaths to pile up, to carve another bloody crest on “Father’s” map. We kill, and we kill and we kill, and in the end, it’s killing all of us, inside..._ he thought to himself.

He was tired of fighting. He was tired of wondering over all the complicated stuff about human’s lives. He was tired of hearing his souls commenting every part of his life. And he was tired of missing Amelia... He wanted to sit somewhere, forever, and to feel the wind picking him up, sending him somewhere far, far away, where the questions would stop to ring in his mind.

_Crying is a sign of weakness, right? Being tired is being weak. Feeling confused means we’re already beaten up, ain’t it? Then why are we winning our war? Because “father” decided it? Am I winning because I’m strong, or because I’m on their side? Why am I glad to see Grumman and Mustang coming back every time they leave for a mission I’m not taking myself? Why am I counting on them, when I never counted on anyone? Was I really independent one day in my life, after being kept as a hostage by the scientists who wanted me to become a fuehrer?_

The questions were numberless in Bradley’s head. Their squad had advanced across the borders, reaching their enemy’s country. They had invaded town and killed civilians, to get revenge for their own deaths. But though killing meant a brief sense of achievement, Bradley felt emptier with each people he massacred. His swords were covered with blood, and it was getting longer each night to clean them, before that he went to sleep. For each death he made, one of his souls vanished from his mind. He wasn’t angry, but slowly, he was starting to realize these souls were good companions. He didn’t want them all gone. Cause he would be left alone with the monster that he was.

But at least, his fellow soldiers showed him they had all the same look in their eyes. Being a murderer affected most humans in the same way. Regrets, fright and madness were mixing together in their nightmares, showing them all the pictures they wanted to erase from their life.

Bradley still enjoyed killing. But only the act of it. All the grieving for it, all the pain surrounding it, made it so harsh. He tried to change his attitude towards it. To repeat himself that someone dying, even under his hand, meant that this someone was a worthless weakling, whose existence was meaningless. He kept these thoughts to himself. Juliett would have punched him in the guts if he had said that out loud. But still, he couldn’t entirely agree with himself. Only the strong lived. And he was still alive and he had to be the strongest. But they were times, outside of the battlefield, when he would feel so weak and frail. So close to break up. And at those times, he would think of Amelia, because he had to stay the confused guy he was back when he met her, since she had a liking to that guy. And he had to remain unchanged, even if all he wanted sometimes was to run his swords through his own flesh.

_I’ve lived my life this long, being a prisoner, being a pawn. If I get through this war, I’ll get higher. I’ll have the right to live in a better way. I’ll be able to smell flowers again and to look at Amelia. And she’ll make me smile._

In the end, Bradley understood why all the other soldiers were always talking of their families, girlfriends and friends, waiting back home. It was the only thing giving a sense to this constant fighting.

...

Weeks passed and then months. The winter went on, chilly and foggy, with corpses piling up under the snow. Bradley lived through it, untouched by the cold. Only death could reach him. He barely talked anymore. Half of his smile would show up to cheer up Juliett and he would greet only Grumman with a nod, when there was enough strength in his body for it. Their squad went through everything, and none of them died, until that spring arrived, and that finally, a ceasefire was called between both factions. Amestris had sustained heavy losses, but nothing as their invading enemies had.

“It’s over men. I’ll call your names, and then we’ll pack up and go back to Central! Squad 12... Lieutenant Kimblee!”

“Here!”

“First Lieutenant Grumman?”

“Yes sir!”

“Sergeant Mustang?”

“Aye aye, sir!”

“Sergeant Bradley?”

“...” Wrath was wondering why he was still a mere sergeant after all that he’d been through. His souls kept on making fun of him about it and he was so busy shutting them up, he didn’t answer at first, lost in his thoughts.

“Bradley?”

“Yes, sir!” the young man retorted, saluting impeccably.

“All right, bet you’re all eager to pack your bags and take the train. Get moving men! You fought well! Amestris won’t forget what you did for your country!”

...

“Who are you?” Bradley asked his reflection, as he stood before the mirror of his washroom.

The man looking at him had a few days beard, an empty eye and long hair. He had just walked out of the shower, finally managing to remove all the dirt and dried blood he was covered with since the beginning of the war. He had vomited once or twice. He still felt nauseous. He removed his patch, knowing that nobody would come to disturb him for once. His tattooed eye looked back at him, giving him the fierce look of a beast.

“I’m King Bradley.” He tried, not too convinced himself. “I’m Wrath.” He whispered a while later, running a tired hand through his wet hair. “But I don’t feel angry anymore....”

He straightened himself, grabbing a pair of scissors. He couldn’t go see Amelia like that. He needed to cut his hair. And to shave that beard. But as he raised his hands, they started to shake.

 _Who are you ?_ , his souls asked him.

“It’s number 12. Or just Brad. Still pretty messed up.” He hid his tattooed eye with one hand, trying to smile faintly. “Is that really me?” he asked the mirror. “Is it all that’s left!?”

And he felt anger again, rising up, but so faintly... He was thinner. All bones and muscles, and nerves. He felt so tensed he wondered why he hadn’t already broken after having his left shoulder tapped by Grumman when they left the train station.

“I shouldn’t go. Not like that. I’ll scare her...”

His souls laughed, saying that it was all he deserved after all. And his anger grew so strong, he decided to prove them wrong.

An hour later, he was walking down Central streets, dressed in a simple black shirt and blue jeans. His hair was short and perfectly combed. The top of his shirt was unbuttoned, because tying anything around his neck made it seemingly hard to breathe. He hated himself for being weak. He threw dark looks at anybody that would stare at him and he was looking dark, so dark and gloomy. But as he arrived closer to the motel, his eye changed. His expression softened. The wind made him shiver. He blinked. Was Amelia still there? He knew the building belonged to her aunt, and she was working there to send some money to her parents, living back in the country. He had no idea how to reach her if it wasn’t by coming here.

She hadn’t given him a phone number or an address. But as the last time, when he stopped in front of the door, she came out, as if being called out by his very presence. She had a bag under her arm though, so she had to be running an errand. Her eyes widened as she recognized him.

He looked the same. Except maybe from the bags under his eye, and the cut on his right cheek...

“Bradley! Is the war over?” she asked, walking up to him as quick as possible with her long dress.

“For now.” He replied.

She looked relieved, but worried at the same time.

“How did you cut yourself like that?! Is it...”

“When I shave myself. My hands were shaking.”

She had thought he had gotten hurt by soldiers, which had surely happened, but to hear it was something so common that did that, she almost burst in laughter. Then again, his last comment, that his hands were shaking, made her realize that the change wasn’t just in his appearance. His aura was exuding something darker. If possible, he looked even more lost than before.

“You got shaved? For me?” she whispered in a flirty way, flapping her eyelids.

A smile crept over his face at that, warming her heart.

“It’s nice to see you too, Amelia.”

His voice hadn’t changed. It was faint in the fresh air of newborn spring. But there was still strength and authority lying there, under the gentleness he kept only for her.

“You look awful you know.”

“I know.”

“I... I don’t really know what to tell you Brad. You need a change of scenery, don’t you? Do you want to talk?”

He shook his head. He was afraid to say too much if he let his mind free itself into words.

“But you didn’t come just to say hi.”

“Why should I come for, then?”

“I don’t know... You have time now? I had an errand to run, but it can wait for a few hours. How about we take a little walk?”

“Sounds nice.”

“Talking more won’t kill you, you know.”

“I don’t wanna talk about that war. Or anything related to it.”

Her smile was really warm and soft, though her eyes were filling with tears and she gently slipped one arm under his.

“You can talk about whatever you want, Bradley. As long as you’re here.”

He was half shocked by the proximity between them, but he didn’t push her away. It was the last thing he wanted to do in fact. They started to walk, slowly adapting to each other pace.

“Say Amelia... Are you cheering up every lost soldier you meet?” he asked her.

“Only those with an eye patch.” She retorted.

Bradley’s smile widened, filling with sunshine. And for once, his souls remained silent. Even after all that, he could still feel so human. And he was grateful to still be alive.

To be continued...


	5. Lost but not alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley start falling, but slowly, oh so slowly...

I chose you – Chapter 5

As he walked with Amelia, her arm still slipped under his, Bradley realized just how much he’d missed her. They hadn’t spent much time together and he still wondered why she had grown so interested in him. But just being with her made him feel so real... He wasn’t a perspective fuhrer for her. Or a soldier. He was just a man. And it comforted him in an indescribable way.

“Winter was pretty long this year... It’s still quite cold and you’re not dressed a lot. Aren’t you cold?”

“I don’t mind it.” He retorted.

“You should button up your shirt.”

“Amelia...”

“I know, I shouldn’t be telling you what to do. But after surviving a war, it would be stupid to fall ill, don’t you think?”

“Okay then.”

They stopped in a shop and he bought himself a jacket to make her happy. Then, he helped her running her errands for her aunt. They talked about the prices of things, the people walking around the streets and stuff like weather. Amelia was only half into it, but she knew Bradley needed to change his mind. He was still so tensed, whenever she would touch his shoulders by accident, he would jump. Only slightly, but still, enough for her to notice that he was stressed, even by her.

Just to walk with his back straight, just to hear cars rolling in the streets, it felt like a nightmare... Bradley was angry to realize how scared he was. He buried himself in silence, trying to focus on Amelia’s voice to forget all other noises. To forget the noise in his head, from the battlefield... What was he still so affected? Why couldn’t he get over it?

“Well then, I’m done with my errands. How about we go somewhere quieter then here?”

“Well, I don’t want to keep you from your work...” he replied.

“My aunt will understand. And... though it may sound strange, I missed you, you know?”

He looked at her, taken by surprise this time. Had his heart really stopped at her words, or was it just his mind playing tricks on him? Instead of smiling, she looked away, troubled to have confided her feelings. They were still mostly strangers to each other. And still, she felt so close to him...

“Really, you did?” he asked.

She nodded, her lowered head brushing against his upper arm.

And Bradley wondered what she could have been missing from him? He was just a weird and confused guy, trying to play it cool whenever he came around her; or well, around anyone at all... He wanted to ask her, but he was too shy. Instead, he gave himself the right to get his arm out of her grasp, so that he could wrap it around her shoulders. He was pretty nervous as he did so, but she didn’t seem to mind. Instead, she understood that it meant: “I missed you too” in his own language.

They were still walking, in silence this time, Amelia holding part of her things in front of her while Wrath carried most of it on his right shoulder, his other arm wrapped around her.

“Brad...”

“Hmmm?”

“I think it’s sad. I barely know you. If you leave another time, I wouldn’t even know which name to mention if I want to have news about you...”

“Well... I shouldn’t be sent back out before a while...”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but... You’re a soldier. I don’t know why you became one, and at some points, there’s no use asking it... But... You’re someone nice.”

“Why do you keep on saying that?” he cut her off. “What is so nice about me?”

“Oh, I guess some people would say you look scary sometimes. But you’re always willing to help, aren’t you? When I ask you to cook dinner with me, you did. And you helped washing the motel, and with the shopping today and you show up every now and then, as if to make sure I was still around. Even if your mind is somewhere else, you’re ready to hear out others. It’s nice.”

He wanted to reply something bitter, because he wasn’t nice at all in his own standards. He was always acting to serve his interests, wasn’t he? What was nice about that? But then, he thought back of Juliett Mustang, back at Creta. How he had wanted to comfort her when she was looking depressed. How he would smile to her whenever he felt his smile would look encouraging enough. And he was happy to get her to smile back. So maybe was a little side of him nice, despite all the harsh training he’d been through. Was it within him since his birth, or had it awaken to Amelia’s presence?

“Anyway, I don’t wish it to happen, but let’s say you get hurt and they take you back in Central for treatment, how am I supposed to show up at your bedside as a good friend would do if I don’t even know your whole name?”

He could tell she was using her acting against him once again. And it made him smile, because it was a part of her he couldn’t help but love.

“I was named King Bradley.” He sighed. “But I don’t really like the King in it... So keep on calling me Brad, alright?”

“Oh, I see. ... Well then, was it so hard?”

“No, of course not. I don’t know what you’re getting at anyway...”

“You’re too hard on yourself. We never got acquainted correctly and it bugged me, I guess.”

“What about you then? Can you give me a name or an address to reach you somehow if anything happens?”

“To reach me?” she repeated.

Glancing at her, he realized he should have chosen another word, because she was getting pretty suspicious, in a way he wasn’t ready to face. Grumman had tried to teach him a few things about girls, like how to show your interest. He said the most important thing was to control this interest, so that it wouldn’t be too much or too little. Bradley had no idea where the limits truly stood, but he guessed he had just crossed them.

He removed his arm from around her and backed away slightly.

“Well... you know, to send you a letter or something...” he tried to regain composure.

She laughed at his reaction.

“Oh, don’t panic just for that, Brad! Of course, I’ll give you my address. It just... surprised me that you would ask...”

“What’s so surprising about it?”

“Stop being so nervous! Can’t I be surprised? It’s just... just funny, to think that you would want to write a letter for me.”

“Okay then, keep mocking me like that, and I’ll leave.” He threatened her, looking rather serious.

“Wait, you can’t! I won’t be able to carry everything back to the motel!”

“I bet you can get any other guy to carry it for you, can’t you?” he barked.

“Just what do you mean by this?” she retorted, raising her voice.

People started to stop and stare, since the pair had stopped to argue in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Sounds like a lover’s quarrel.” Some people whispered.

Bradley hadn’t miss the fact that Amelia was nice to everyone she met. Alright, she was somewhat nicer with him until now, but he couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever she smiled to another guy. And she did for every vendor they met and every passerby. And he was sick of having her messing around with his confusion. It wasn’t his fault if he said the wrong things sometimes; he was still trying to learn how to be a proper human!

Bradley was about to bark an answer at her, when he took view of the people staring. His throat went dry. He could do with a troop of enemy soldiers, but being under the eyes of so many civilians in such a situation was different. He had no idea if he was right to be angry at Amelia. It was the first time he yelled at her for real since he had called her a woman from across the street.

 _Alright, you’re already getting yourself an audience because of her! Proud, Wrath?_ His souls laughed at him.

“You think you got me all figured out, but you don’t.” He whispered.

His anger fell down and his shoulders were hanging low as he turned his back on her and started heading for the motel, shoving her groceries and stuff on his back.

“Let’s just get you back home.” He decided out loud.

He glared at the people who had stopped doing their stuff or stopped walking to stare at them and Amelia ran after him, even more surprised by his sudden changes of action. It was only when the other civilians had scattered back to their own lives that she was able to catch up with him.

“Slow down, Brad! Come on, I wasn’t mocking you, I was just... kidding, you know? You’re too uptight for your own good. Loosen...”

“Loosen up a bit, is it what you were going to say?” he said before that she could end her sentence. “You’ve already told me to do that twice. And I’d like to listen, but...”

He stopped again, looking up at the sky, which was the same here then it had been on the battlefield. As if the fight was still on. Amelia almost crashed in his back, and she bent in two to catch back her breath.

“Were you just walking fast there? I’ve been running after you for...”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get angry at you...” he sighed as he turned back around and gave her his hand to help her straightening herself up.

“I know, King.”

He let go of her hand.

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s a good name, fits your royal looks!” she joked, winking at him.

“I don’t have royal looks!” he retorted.

“Here we go again! You’re too easy to anger!” she laughed.

His expression softened at that and he looked down at his feet, like a young boy would do in front of his mom.

 _This anger which ain’t mine... It’s making me angrier! But she’s right. I’ve gotta control it more. Otherwise, I’ll lose her..._ he thought.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated.

“Don’t look so down!” she told him, poking the tip of his nose with her index so that he would look up. “But you should stop wondering why I joke so often with that attitude of yours. You react to every little thing I say!”

He would have protested if it hadn’t proved her right.

“You mentioned somewhere quieter... Where did you want to go?” he asked instead.

...

After a brief walk, they reached a park, where they sat on a bench. They stuffed Amelia’s bags under the bench and for a moment, they just sat back. Bradley wasn’t sure if the woman expected him to do anything. It was his first time in a park... He observed everything intently, from the trees to the little roads of dust that drew a circle in the grass. There were small ponds in a few corners, and it was all arranged in both a pretty and symmetrical way. It was reassuring, that he could see things one side and predict from them how they would be on the other side. The green grass was so fresh and clean compared to the trenches that still haunted his dreams. The sky seemed paler, bluer. Birds were singing in the fresh air, returning from the south. Everything felt so alive. He gazed at Amelia.

She was sitting still, with her neck bent backward, her eyes closed, a peaceful smile across her face. He blinked and waited and realized she stood like this, still smiling.

“What are you doing?” he asked her, bewildered.

Her smile widened, but her eyes remained closed.

“I’m taking the sunshine in. It’s so warm and relaxing. You should do it too.” She suggested.

It was around midday and the sun was shining bright indeed. Though Bradley wasn’t sure if staying still like this was really a good thing... With his eyes closed, he wouldn’t be able to see any threat coming. And to expose his throat like this? He had learned twice instead of once that leaving any opening to the enemy was fatal. And he was still so tensed, he wasn’t sure if he could relax, even with Amelia next to him.

“Stop staring at me and try it.” She added, blushing slightly.

Since her eyes were still closed, he was starting to think she had some hidden powers. Or she understood him too well. Sighing, he looked in front of him, the sun hitting him straight in the face. So that was why she had chosen that bench... He tried to remind himself that they were in the middle of Central, that the war was at a halt and that no enemy would jump out of anywhere. If they did, he would be ready anyway. He was maybe still clueless about civilian’s way, but he was an incredible soldier. He had to be slightly stupid too, but he closed his eye, and bent back his head, abandoning his face to the sun.

At first, he could only see red from beneath his eyelid. Then, he realized his face was slowly warming up under the sunrays. And the impression was welcomed, because the air was still fresh, and because nothing had felt that warm in a long time. He progressively relaxed, his shoulders hanging lower. He leaned back on the bench and as he did so, he felt Amelia’s slipping her arm under his, and leaning on his side, with her head on his shoulder, which got me all tensed back to the state he was in a moment ago.

“Relax, Bradley.” She reassured him. “Breathe slowly. Empty your mind. Just exist for a moment, without thinking of anything.” She gave him time to do so, before to ask: “How does it feel?”

“It’s... really nice... Though I have to ask, why are you leaning on my like this, Amelia?”

“Because I’m feeling tired...”

He felt her hand on his arm, and her face stroking his shoulder through his coat and shirt. And it made him feel so vulnerable and important at the same time, he couldn’t push her away.

“Tell me something about you, Bradley. Where are you from? How were your parents?”

Her questions made his throat dry. He couldn’t answer any of them. He had no parents and no place where he came from. No past, no story, no life. And for once, he didn’t want to lie; because it hurt and because he was starting to hate lying to her.

“Think back of what makes you happy in life.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t want you to force a smile to make me happy. I want it to be real, Brad.”

As much as he didn’t want to lie, he didn’t want to disappoint her. So he thought something up.

“I remember... my mother’s voice. I lost my parents when I was really small, but I think... She used to sing.”

“You love songs?”

“Juliett sung sometimes at our base camp.”

“Juliett?” she repeated.

“She’s one of the members from my squad. She’s a real tomboy, but every now and then, she would sing when we were down and when there was no danger of doing so.”

“She must be someone incredible.”

“They all are.”

“Tell me more over them.”

He remained silent, realizing she was digging too deep in his life. When he started to think back on Juliett or Grumman, he would recall the others. The others he had tried to forget but couldn’t. All the deaths...

“Amelia... I thought I’d said I wouldn’t talk about this?”

“What if you need to?”

He turned his head to look at her, angry to see how persistent she was. What made her believe that she knew better than him what he needed to talk about or not?

“Why don’t you get off my case for an instant? I’m alright, I’m not faking it!”

 _Lying, again,_ his souls observed.

“I think I’m scared...” she replied. “If you really wanna know why I’m so interested in you... It’s because you remind me of my brother. He was a soldier, just as you. First time he came back from war, he was yelling at everyone and kicking in everything around him. He made our mom cry and hide in his room. When I tried to talk some sense into him, he slapped me, so I gave him some time to quiet down. When I went back to see him, he was sleeping, and his pillows was wet from his tears. He was just a kid back then, barely your age, Brad. He was so devastated. But he went back to fight and...”

Suddenly, Bradley saw sadness over Amelia’s pretty face. Tears were gathering in her eyes at the memory and he felt her trembling. He knew she was angry. And he understood before that she completed her sentence:

“...he never came back.”

Now there was a knot in his throat.

“Amelia...”

She quickly dried her tears, evading his gaze until she felt strong enough to keep a straight face. Her green eyes were sharp as she stared back right into his eye.

“I’m not always sure of what I’m doing. I don’t say I got every answer. But I think simple things are often the best. And if you’re lost, I wanna help you find yourself.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying. But before that you get mad at me, I want to thank you for caring.”

“Well... You saved my life, the first day we met. I still haven’t paid you back for that.” She observed.

 _Oh, but you have, Amelia_ , he thought in silence.

And he smiled at her.

“Say, could be that we’re both lost?” he suggested.

After hearing her confiding over her dead brother, and knowing that she disliked war and the military, he could understand why she’d be interested in a confused soldier like him. But would it mean that she’d be willing to get him out of the military? Because it couldn’t happen. Even if it was serving his “Father’s” plan, he was going to become fuehrer. He hadn’t strived so hard his whole life not to achieve that goal.

“Maybe we are...” Amelia sighed.

She shivered and straightened herself up suddenly, surprising Bradley, who was thinking of wrapping one arm around her frail shoulders.

“Alright, enough sad thoughts! Clouds are hiding the sun and I’m going to freeze over! Let’s move to warm ourselves up!” she declared with enthusiast.

“How can you do that?” he asked her.

“Do what?”

“Jump from one emotion to the next?”

She raised her shoulders, almost indifferent.

“I just do it. No use to mourn all day, is there?”

 _Instead of special powers, maybe she’s just crazy_ , his souls suggested.

“I guess...” he whispered, talking only to her.

He had given up on talking to them. They were disappearing slowly anyway, so why should he give a damn about them?

He joined her for a walk around the park. As they walked and started talking of benign stuffs, like the places she used to go when she was a little girl, and his training in swordsmanship –Bradley was starting to think he really had to get himself normal activities to be able to talk with her over it later...- Well, as they kept on walking, Wrath realized Amelia was still trembling slightly. Her coat was thin. He noticed a spot where it had been patched up. How hadn’t he spotted it earlier? She was talking about him being too lightly dressed for the weather, but always keeping him too close for him to see her own dressing.

“Are you still cold?” he asked.

She nodded, biting her lower lips. He took a halt and she stopped and turned around, to see he was removing his black jacket.

“Here.” He said, putting the jacket on her shoulders.

“Wait, you don’t have too...” she tried to refuse the attention.

But he firmly closed the jacket around her small frame.

“I don’t mind. Plus, after saving your life from that nasty chicken bone, it would be bad for my reputation to let you catch a cold.”

She laughed and she blushed at the same time. But she wrapped the jacket tighter around her, delighted by its warmth.

“Thank you Brad.”

This time, unlike the last one, he wasn’t taken by surprise. And they share a shy smile, because the gesture she was thanking him for sounded so intimate to both of them, it was almost shameful...

“You’re welcome.”

 _Man, you’re a lost cause_ , his souls sighed.

 _If I’m lost with her, where’s the problem?_ He shut them up, still smiling.

To be continued...


	6. Number 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When delight is followed by grief...

I chose you – Chapter 6

Bradley was trying to find a reason to keep Amelia with him for the rest of the day, when he saw her face twisting with surprise and what he interpreted as fear, as if someone was sneaking up on him with a weapon or worse... He looked back, to see a small object flying erratically but definitely towards him. He instantly ducked the thing, which was a harmless toy in fact. Not that he would know it was, he never had toys... But since he had been looking too high, he didn’t see the next thing coming and felt something hitting his legs. Looking down, he saw a human child, collapsed from her collision with him.

“Oww, oww... Oh, sorry mister! I was trying to catch up with my kite and I didn’t watch carefully where I was running.” The small girl said with a trembling voice.

Bradley looked so stern and tall, she was afraid he was going to get angry at her.

“Poor little thing.” Amelia whispered, walking up to the girl to help her up.

Quickly, the woman removed the dirt from the child clothes and made sure she was hurt, while Bradley stand back, not really used to see kids and kinda shocked to see the girl snatching away from him his friend’s attention.

The “poor little thing” had a pretty white dress and a red wool overcoat with a matching red hat on her blond and curly hair. She looked so cute; it was hard to believe she was the daughter of the man who came running in their direction. It was a tall man, his hair as blond as his moustache. A moustache that Bradley knew well enough to be even more surprised to think the aforementioned man was a father.

“Are you alright Liz? I’m so sorry mister...” the man froze as he recognized the man his daughter had hit by accident.

Bradley was the first to talk, his voice hoarse from surprise and disbelief:

“Grumman?!”

He had already recognized his brother in arms, but he had to ask, because this was just too unexpected.

“Oh good lord, I wasn’t expecting to meet you here Bradley...” Grumman sighed, looking rather annoyed.

“Daddy, my kite is stuck in the tree! And I torn my skirt when I fell, mommy is going to get mad at me for it! Daddy? Daddy!” the small girl snivelled, pouting and grabbing on her father’s pant to get his attention back to her.

Amelia stood back, understanding the two men were fellow soldiers. It was easy to read it in Grumman’s stature.

“I’m sorry darling, I’ll get you a new dress and your mom won’t see a difference and...” Eli tried to comfort his daughter.

The resemblance was quite clear between the two, and the kid had to be around seven or eight years old. But since he had been fighting alongside the Grumman and since he believed he was just about his age, King was still under shock.

“Wait a minute!” Bradley interrupted him, ignoring the small girl. “You’re a father? Just how old are you?”

“Don’t go telling the others I’m an old geezer or something! I’m still young.” The blond man protested.

“Daddy, I want my kite!”

The poor girl had tears in her eyes and in her voice and Bradley felt bad for her, even if her pitchy voice annoyed him. He didn’t know what it was like to have a father, but since her dad was a soldier, she mustn’t have much time with him and the only time she got, he ignored her...

Amelia looked ready to say something harsh about them offending a lady’s heart –he was ready to bet she would say something like that- so he decided to put the questions for later.

“Alright, young lady.” Bradley sighed, looking at the small girl for the first time since Grumman had showed up in the picture. “Stop yelling and act as a proper soldier. State your rank and make your order!”

“Rank?” she looked up at her dad, who simply smiled at the joke, and this seemed to give her an idea, because she looked back at Bradley with a mischievous grin. “I’m top general, Anna-Elizabeth Isabelle Grumman, and I order you, mister eye patch, to retrieve my kite from this tree!” she ordered him, pointing at the tree behind him.

Bradley raised an eyebrow at the “mister eye patch” which didn’t sound as dignified as it should have, but he guessed that Grumman hadn’t had the occasion to raise his daughter properly since he was a soldier and he made a fine salute to the small girl, pretending to go along with her game. The smile on Amelia’s face was enough to pay back for losing a little dignity. And a moment later, he was getting down the tree with the retrieved toy and Anna-Elizabeth was running around the park with her kite floating in the fresh air.

The three adults stood back, Grumman eying Bradley with a new respect, because the stern man had been able to bring back a smile on his daughter’s face. Amelia wasn’t sure if she had a right to say something, since Bradley hadn’t acquainted her properly to his fellow soldier. She cleared her throat as politely as possible and both man stopped looking at the small girl playing to turn their attention back to the young woman standing between them.

“Oh my...!” Grumman twisted his hands with pretended shame. “Where are my manners? I’m the second lieutenant Eli Grumman, my fair miss. Your beauty is so pleasant that it settled me right back into silence, you see?”

“Hum...” Amelia wasn’t sure how to react to the compliment and Bradley glared at his “friend”, making it easy to understand he’d better keep his hands and his eyes to himself around the young woman.

“This is Amelia.” Bradley whispered, forcing himself not to express his irritation with his voice, but only because Amelia really didn’t owe to be presented to someone on a harsh tone. “And I’m sorry to say this moron is one of the top officers in my squad.” He went on, giving an apologetic look at the young woman.

“You hurt my feelings, Brad. Moron?” Grumman paused for a moment, making a grimace that showed how he tried to swallow down the insult, in a pretty fake way... “It’s a chance my little girl didn’t hear you badmouthing her father...”

“Yeah, so she’s really your daughter. So that brings me back to the question I had in mind a moment ago. How old are you?” Bradley asked again, this time willing to get an answer.

His persistence made Amelia giggle, but she forced herself to hide it as much as possible, while Grumman was looking for a way to escape the question. He quickly gave up.

“I never said I was twenty years old. I said I was still young.”

“You were teaching lessons at Juliett for getting married at twenty years old, but didn’t you do just the same thing?”

Grumman slightly blushed, which was a sight to behold, since he rarely expressed something that he hadn’t decided to express beforehand. He cleared his throat to get back some dignity, to no avail.

“I’ve been younger and quite foolish. I’m already divorced, sadly for Liz. To answer you properly Brad, I’m turning thirty one this year. I don’t think Juliett was wrong, she seemed really in love with her Lloyd when she left the barrack,” he said, really seriously, before to burst back into his seductive clown role: “but it broke my heart to believe that such a young girl’s heart was already taken!”

This time, Amelia laughed openly, and Bradley scolded, seeing how easily Grumman could amuse her when he was still doing his best to be nice and barely managing it...

“Daddy, look, look, it’s flying, it’s flying!” Anna-Elizabeth happily squealed, as the wind blew stronger over them.

The winds kept on growing, till Amelia had to hold onto her skirt to prevent it from turning upside down. For a moment, Bradley thought the little girl would be dragged in the sky by her colourful kite, but fortunately, her father ran to help her when he saw the toy pulled too hard on her small hands. And the couple stood behind, looking at that beautiful pair, father and daughter playing together.

“She’s such a nice kid. And it was really gentle from you to take care of retrieving her kite in that tree. Her father is nice, but I don’t see him climbing up trees.” She added, holding back a chuckle.

“What’s wrong about climbing up trees?” Bradley replied with a sly smile, meaning he wasn’t being susceptible, but simply messing around with her.

Amelia shook her head, as if he should already see the evidence in front of him.

“He’s too classy for it. He’s playing with his daughter around the park, but look at his clothes. There’s nothing messy, no fold on his shirt or his coat, no dirt, nothing.”

Bradley’s face darkened. He didn’t like that she looked at Grumman so intently. And this that mean he wasn’t classy? Just this morning, she said he had royal looks and now, he was a commoner compared to Grumman? He was too proud to say it, but his feelings were truly hurt. And he churned on the words he wanted to bark, because he had bite enough to her jokes over how he wasn’t as everyone else and all.

“Okay.” He retorted, barely hiding his jealousy.

“I’m sorry Brad; I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s manlier to climb up on tree, though it’s kinda boyish also.”

He grunted in answer and she bit her lower lip, trying to find a better way to say what she meant.

“Oh Brad, come on, you know what I meant!”

The wind blew again, so strongly Liz cried with fear and Bradley felt something hitting him in the back. It wasn’t really hard, but he jumped from surprise and as he caught the “something” he realized Amelia’s packages had moved from under the bench.

“I think we might need to run.” He sighed with a slight grin.

Amelia furrowed her eyebrows, bemused by his comment, till she saw another package roll with the wind, right passed her.

“Oh no! I can’t have this happening! My aunt is going to get mad if after buying everything with her money, I don’t bring anything back to the hotel!” she panicked, trying to catch the bag rolling on the ground. She tumbled and fell on the aforementioned bag with a yelp of surprise and Bradley laughed, even if the wind was feeling cold through his thin shirt.

She glared at him, but only for a moment, as they joined forces to get every bag and package in hold before that the wind get any stronger. Grumman suggested to give them a lift back to Amelia’s places, since they had a lot of stuff to carry and Liz had to hold back a few tears on the way, because the rope of her kite had snapped from the strength of the wind and the toy had left in the sky, lost forever according to her.

“I’m sure someone will find it,” Amelia cheered her. “They’ll repair it and a new child like you may have fun playing with it.”

“But I won’t ever be able to play with it again, and I torn my skirt and mommy will...”

Bradley looked to the car roof, annoyed by her whining. In a way, it made her cute, but he couldn’t put up with it. He had never whined once in his life. Not even when he was sick. Or maybe once, but as always, his memories told him what he wanted to hear.

“Come on now, I’ll sew it back for you, she won’t see any difference.” Amelia offered, taking Anna-Elizabeth on her lap to be able to repair her dress.

Bradley sat on the other side of the car and the packages were between them, which didn’t really disturb him at the moment, because he still hadn’t decide what to think about kids and their ways. What really disturbed him was the way Grumman was staring at him in the rear-view mirror, raising his eyebrows and pointing at Amelia with his head, or winking at him, or just smiling stupidly. A blind man would have known that something was on, because Bradley was just to stern to be able to put up with someone with more than a few hours when he wasn’t on the battlefield. But still, had he really need such a treatment just because he was acting friendly with one peculiar woman?

His pride wanted to say that nothing was going on between them, because it was the truth, it was still way too soon, and he still had to adapt to the fact he wasn’t entirely human, and he still had to accept that he had killed people and would keep on killing and that in a way, he liked killing. And that fact she disliked war didn’t make him entirely comfortable around her when he think about all that.

...

When Bradley finally got back to his private quarters in the scientist’s wing of the army, his head was buzzing with new questions, hate for children that laughed and yelled and squealed with high pitched voice and his deepening affection for Amelia... How he could mix all that in his mind, he had no idea, but it sure explained the headache he had. He removed his cold clothes and changed into warmer ones before to bury let himself fell on his bed. Sleep took time to come and was snatched away from him just as quickly as it had been long to finally arrive.

“Morning, number 12!”

He grumbled in his sleep and tried to raise himself on his bed, his hair a mess on his head. He had been dreaming, a nice dream, but he couldn’t recall it thanks to golden-teeth’s face, that greeted him for the nth morning.

He’d rather be awakened by a tank’s bombshell than this cracked man.

“Hi, number 12! Ready for your tests and all?”

Bradley didn’t tell him not to be called number 12 anymore, the guy was a lost cause and “Father” had forbidden him to kill him out of anger, or to kill him at all in fact, because he still needed his services...

But I hate him, oh, I hate him so much, Bradley thought, letting his wrath invade him.

“It’s too early today.” He retorted, shoving his head back into his pillows.

He had been sleeping so well for once, why did the moron have to barge in yelling his old number in his ears? He wasn’t a number anymore. Even if it was hard to think he was King Bradley...

“I’ve heard you were getting pretty interested in one peculiar woman, 12. She’s rubbing off on you, I hope, because you shouldn’t be talking back to me. You’re still a perspective Fuhrer. You still need our help, boy.”

12\. Boy. That wasn’t him. That couldn’t be him. Bradley forced his mind not to listen. Not to even hear.

“It’s sure that this Amelia’s cute, but she’s not of your rank, you know that, right?”

He stirred back up as the man named her beloved name. How did they know? He had never mentioned her around them, never really mentioned her at all, except when the war was still on, and there were only trustable comrades with him as that time. Or were there Father’s spies among them? Envy could have been there. Golden-teeth could be Envy in fact. He hated Envy. But he breathed in heavily, to check the scent and it was the old man’s smell, not the monster’s that Father called his brother...

“You’ve still got work and years ahead of you before to be Fuhrer. But it’s sure that getting a good wife with the right pedigree is something you should think about. Right now, you have nothing but your looks and your strength to be a good match.” Gold teeth sneered.

“So here, take a look at your potential wives.” He added, throwing a file case on Bradley’s bed. Pictures and data spilled out of the open files and there were only women pictures, with names and parents in the army, and fortunes that they would inherit. Some of them were twice his age. And he quickly averted his eyes from it, refusing to even consider choosing someone so important in his life like this. “You can choose one among them, so get what you want from that Amelia and forget her quickly, so our plans may get in motion.” Golden-teeth said, his eyes looking in different directions.

Bradley glared at him, knowing he couldn’t expect anything else from that guy than bad words and hurting comments about him. But that he would go as far as include Amelia in it. And slowly, he took in the terrible reality of his life. If things got any more serious with Amelia, who he wanted to protect at all cost, he would drag her into danger just by wanting her by his side. His souls laughed at him.

 _We already knew it would happen_ , his souls mocked him. _Aren’t you supposed to be brilliant, Wrath, or did you just realize that? It was bound to happen. So stop seeing her before that you bring her more trouble than good. She’s a good girl. She doesn’t need to suffer._

And Bradley knew it. He hadn’t been thinking so far ahead lately. But seeing the pictures of all the potential wives for the perspective Fuhrer he was got him thinking seriously.

“What if I object with this selection?” he asked.

“Oh, if you’re not the Fuhrer in twenty years, all my life’s works will have been for nothing. And it’s sad you know, because the still living perspective Fuhrers aren’t in any shape to take your place. And though this place mainly involves your capabilities on the battlefield and within the army, there’s more to it. It’s a little like royalty, but what would you know about it, huh?”

Golden-teeth chuckled and his eyes brightened suddenly.

“Oh, I know, I got something to show you. Get up, 12.”

Bradley wasn’t sure if he was going to like it, but he was fully awake now. So he got up and followed. He would have to endure their test afterwards anyway...

“Since you’re number 12, what do you think we did with the survivors?”

Bradley shivered at the thought. He had forgotten his fellow perspectives Fuhrer. Sometimes, he’d like to convince himself they’d never existed at all and that it had been only a nightmare. He had never wondered over this question. He was too busy trying to understand normal humans and how to look like one of them. He’d managed so far.

“Normal soldiers?”

“So that they would kill you when your back’s turned?” Golden-teeth laughed. “Oh no, we prepared them for time of dire needs. And if you fail but survive somehow, you’ll have the same fate, 12.”

The two men stopped in front of a door, deep under the labs of Central’s army’s HQ. Golden-teeth looked too happy with himself and his constant stare forced Bradley to maintain his vigilance and impassibility. He wasn’t going to let him see that he was scared. No way would he be moved by any threats from that man.

But as Golden-teeth opened the door to him and extended one arm inside, to invite him to go in first, Bradley doubted. Could it be a trap? No way, he had still the ouroborous tattoo on his eye, he was a homunculus, and he couldn’t be trashed away now. He still had everything to prove. So he walked in. His eyes widened as he recognized the dormitory where he had been sleeping with the other perspective Fuhrers during his whole life. The metallic beds were aligned in two rows. A few night tables stood between them, but some of them were broken to pieces. The guys sitting on the bed or on the floor looked up as he walked in.

And he recognized them. But worse, they seemed to recognize him. He had fenced with them. He had trained at fighting with them. Everything he knew, they knew it. And now, he was more important, he was different, he was higher. He was still whole. He could tell something had changed about them. A few of them got up or screamed at his sight, but the rest remained still, their eyes slightly widening or their neck cracking as they moved too quickly. Their eyes were empty of purpose. They looked like a bunch of puppets waiting for their master. Their skin was grey from living underground for the last year. None of them were talking when he had entered; none of them said a word right now. They were just waiting.

Bradley felt it was wrong, he felt it in his bones and in his blood and he wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. He had to prove himself and to hide his fear. In brief, he had to hide everything.

“What happened with them?”

“When they heard they wouldn’t even be tested to become Fuhrer, they got a little mad. We brain-rotted them into perfect slaves.”

Brain-rot? Was it literal or just another way of talking about a big alchemist experience? Whatever it meant, the men before him were lifeless. One of them was rocking on place absentmindedly, staring at nothing at all. Another one was banging his head on the wall, slowly, repeatedly. The noise got on Bradley nerves. He felt his stomach churned as he saw the life that could have been his.

“What do they do?” he asked.

His voice sounded too strong in that room filled with living corpse, zombies waiting for orders and staring at him with disapproval in their eyes, as if something deep within them told them they couldn’t like this man. He had stolen so much from each of them. It could have been any of them out in the human world, taking strolls with Amelia. But it was him. It was him, and how he was glad!

“Nothing. They train to keep in shape, they eat, and they run in undergrounds tunnels. They fight with chimeras. But the rest of the time, they wait for orders. They can’t stay without moving for hours. This one has been banging his head to that wall for two days now and he’ll still be in perfect shape for fighting. Though his face looks a bit weird, but who cares, huh?”

 _I do, but why do I care, huh?_ Bradley thought bitterly.

“Who do they fight? What orders can you give them?”

“Oh, if any trespassers were to find the deepest secret of our little organization, they would be our last guards to prevent it from happening. They’re my lovely bodyguards. So, what do you think, 12, want to see them in action?”

No, he didn’t want to. He was looking for his breath despite all his effort for staying calm and indifferent. What was this madness? Had he been raised for that? He never knew failure. But if he had failed, which could have happened, would this have been his life? The answer was yes. But that raised another terrible question. Why him more than any of them? Every of them owed an Amelia to help them adapt in this world. Every of them had worked hard, even if he was stronger and if he had worked harder. Wasn’t that just a lie to comfort him, to think that he was better? Wasn’t he replaceable after all, as the eleven first perspectives Fuhrer had been disposed of?

He remembered their corpses, tossed in a room and piled together until that he came and fought the stone and won. And even if he had seen all kind of terrible things in his life, he retched and pushed away Golden-teeth and ran out of the labs, out of the headquarters, out of this madness that had always been his life.

 _I was stronger, it’s because I was stronger that I went through it all, it’s because I’m better and..._ He tried to convince himself.

He hated it.

_This will never happen to me, whatever they did to them, I’ll never be..._

But wasn’t he already a slave? His mission was to become Fuhrer to cover up his Father’s plans and crave a transmutation circle of blood around the country, till it could be entirely sacrificed for the plan of Father. It would be sacrificed with Amelia, and annoying Grumman and his daughter, and Juliett and the perspective Fuhrers. He himself would be sacrificed in the end, he guessed.

He tried to relax and to shut all the thoughts away. What good would it do him to think over all that right now?

 _I don’t want to die. I don’t want Amelia to be hurt. I don’t want to work for anyone else than myself. I never asked for any of this. But I’m stuck, ain’t I?_ He thought, leaning with his back on the bricks wall of the barracks.

 _You sure are man. So what will you do?_ His many souls asked him.

And his own soul quivered, crushed beneath the fear and the anger fighting in him.

 _I’ll become Fuhrer. I’ll show them that I’m more than a number, or a king. And now, I realized I’d prefer it take some times_ , he admitted to himself, looking to the horizon.

_Why so?_

_There are still some things I want to live. My life is decided for me, but it’s still me living it, ain’t it? So I’ll live it. Even if they try to scare me off and threaten me. I’m stronger than the other perspective Fuhrer. I’m stronger than all of them ‘cause I’m alive!_

To be continued...


	7. Sick wonders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley tries to understand what he sees in his so-called sister and face a homonculus cold.

I chose you – Chapter 7

“Alright Bradley, now it’s time for papercrap!”

Kimblee had a wide smile on his face, wider than it should be permitted to a human’s mouth to extend as he dropped a tremendous pile of paper sheets on Bradley’s desk.

They were standing in their barracks’ office, where each soldier who had survived the last war had an assigned desk and all the work related to it... Juliett had finished early, while Grumman was away on a new “adventure” as he would call it. Wrath had just walked in, since he had been running tests with his army of scientists to make sure that he was still perfectly in shape. Which he was, of course. Except his throat hurt a little and his mind was foggy, as if his head couldn’t stop from hurting, but he put it all on the fact he hadn’t seen Amelia for two weeks with all the training he’d been put through. Amestris was getting new methods for wars. And he had to learn them all, of course.

“Time for what?” asked the young soldier, thinking his ears were failing him.

“Meant paperwork, sergeant. You’ve been slacking off lately, so there is tons of it!”

Bradley understood just with the look in Kimblee’s golden eyes that it was more the whole squad who had been slacking over it. It became a certainty for him as three other piles of paper joined the first one.

“Well then, enjoy yourself!” Kimblee said with his awfully cheerful tone.

Bradley had no idea how the guy could smile and look nice on the outside and chill him to the bones with his twisted attitude, but he wanted to be able to do something like that if just once! A smile that could scare the crap out of people! He was pretty sure he could manage that.

With a sigh, he started filling in the forms and paper that both Kimblee and Grumman had refused to complete. To think he was obliged to lower himself to do some petty paperwork, him, a prospective Fuhrer!

 _Since when did you become so wicked, Wrath?_ His souls inquired him.

 _I’m getting bored of being the one they’re messing around with. When I’ll be Fuhrer, people will see me for what I am. A force to be reckoned with,_ he mentally replied.

 _You should try on your sweet Amelia_ , the souls laughed.

His pen froze before the page and a drop of ink stained the white sheet. He’d never want to scare Amelia. What would she think of him if she knew though that... he wasn’t as nice with other people as he was with her? Had he just nurtured evil thoughts? Okay, he was no angel, but to think about scaring the crap out of people just to avenge him for what he’d been going through? Of course, he could be scary. He remembered the look in his enemies’ eyes. He could never forget. But somehow, being far from the battlefield for all these weeks had made it feel different.

Bradley ran one of his hands through his hair. Was this sudden urge of becoming scarier than Kimblee one day due to his homunculus’ nature, or to the bad treatment he had endured for his whole life? Or was it already within him from the start? Amelia kept on saying how nice he was, but he couldn’t seem to understand why. When she wasn’t around, he barely showed any kindness. There was no good reason to do so anyway...

When he wasn’t with Amelia, the only people he met were the gang of scientists from his life in the lab, or his fellow soldiers. The first were despicable and the last, well, he still had trouble understanding them.

Grumman was nice to hang around with, but since Bradley had understood how the young officer tried to hide his family, as if he was ashamed of it... He had trouble with that part of the man. He was a good soldier, but what man in his right mind would try to hide and reject his family when he had one? To be honest, Bradley was awfully jealous.

But that wasn’t his only problem. His “Father” had summoned him and he was supposed to meet him in his underground base later in the day. The last thing King wanted was to get a speech over his part to play in the terrifying blond man’s plan, or to be told of what he should or shouldn’t do.

He focused on the paperwork to forget about his Father. Unfortunately, the office’s door cracked opened and a pair of high heels foothold started hammering the wooded floor. His eyebrows rose in surprise before that he glanced at the woman walking in. Her dress’ cleavage was outrageous and he couldn’t believe she dared to walk around in open day like this, with the risk of being seen by any normal soldier which wasn’t a member of their organization.

Her wavy hair was as dark as his, and somehow, he wondered why all homunculi had dark hair. He had seen Greed’s picture and Glutonny was bald, and even Sloth was dark-haired. It was the only resemblance they shared with the ouroborous tattoo. The only way he could accept to call them his brothers and sister.

“What are you doing here, Lust?”

“Oh, I just wanted to see how our new recruit was going. You know, this uniform really flatters you.” She whispered with a seductive voice.

He blinked once and as she sat on his desk, pushing the pile of paper sheets aside so that she could show him her curved hips –and well, all that he could guess that was under her black dress-, he blinked a second time. What was going on here?! Was she testing him? Was she really Lust or was it Envy? Envy loved messing around with him, showing up as anyone he knew just to make him jump as he would change his voice suddenly. But she didn’t smell like Envy. He didn’t like her scent either. There was something musky about it, as a strange moister in the air. Decaying was the only word in his mind for an instant.

“You don’t like compliments, Wrath?” she sneered, a mocking smile on her perfect lips.

“I don’t like having you sitting on my desk like a whore. I don’t care about what you think of me.” he acidly retorted.

Her smile faded one instant, but then she crossed her legs and pushed in his stomach with her heel, grinning wildly.

“You’re so independent, young man. Do you think you know everything? The other soldiers would be delighted just to have me looking at them.”

“Then go look at them all you want, I’ve got work!” he barked, removing her feet from him and pushing her aside. If she had to insist, he was going to draw his blade and show her the exit the hard way.

Lust got up and walked around the office casually, as if she was taking a stroll which revolved around him. Bradley obstinately remained sitting at his desk, doing his best to ignore her high heels clicking on the floor. She stopped eventually and he felt her hands on his shoulders. And hell, his body was reacting already, before that she leaned down to him:

“This work isn’t worthy of you, or is it?” she whispered to his ear on his blind side.

He felt his anger reacting, but contained it, shoving her away by bracing himself.

“If you want something, just say it!” he growled, scattering the paper sheets as he got up too quickly and swiftly turned around to glare at her.

She gave him a dirty look and though still innocent on many things about life, he could tell it was dirty.

“I should be the one saying that.”

It would be a lie to say that Bradley didn’t find Lust attractive. _In a morbid way._ She scared him as much as she could be fascinating to stare at. He hardly gulped down, scowling to hide his blush. He wasn’t going to let her pervade him. His sin was Wrath and how angry he felt at her for treating him like a weak, “tentationable” man. But his throat was dry and his mind foggy.

 _Choke on your words, bitch_ , he thought. _Run back to your Father and give me some air._

His throat was dry as sandpaper, but he still managed to laugh at her:

“Oh come on. Don’t think too highly of yourself, Lust.”

This time, her cocky smile turned upside down and her red eyes became icy, like shards of philosopher stone, darted at him. She crossed her arms in front of her too big chest, raising one doubtful brow.

“I think you’re the one overestimating himself, Wrath. Rejecting me ain’t clever.”

“Dealing with you isn’t clever. We’re not enemies, but we’re neither friends nor comrads. You’re my so called “sister”. So act like one and let me live in peace.” He suggested on a more conciliating tone.

She could have bite back, but she accepted the compromise with a pout. And damn, she looked sexy even when she was grimacing.

“So, you’re brighter than you look, young man. But don’t think I’ll call you my brother just for that. You still have to prove yourself,” she observed before to throw her hair over her shoulder and walked to the door.

Before that she exited the room, she looked back and winked at him, as if to mean she could come back if he was a good boy. He swallowed his own saliva as the door closed behind her. He remembered the soldiers talking of what they’ll do to their girlfriend once they would be back home. And his face flushed since there was no one to see it anymore. Had he made the right decision just now?

He sat back in his chair, trying to focus back on his paperwork. Had he just been tested? After all, he was meeting “father” in the afternoon. He’d rather meet Amelia, but the army was keeping him busy. And he didn’t want to go and see her with the picture of Lust winking at him still fresh in his mind.

It took him the whole next two hours to complete his work and he barely ate anything, bored to see how this day of his life was going nowhere. He just wanted to escape, to be able to live something meaningful. He liked the army’s routine, because it was familiar, but he yearned for more.

He wanted to see Juliett more often, and Amelia. And to trust a man, other than Grumman or Kimblee. It would feel good, to have informal friends. Real people, that didn’t want to use him as a tool or a sacrificial pawn. He didn’t need it, but he knew now it wouldn’t be as hard if he had some real support. He needed to get some if just to stop talking about the military with Amelia.

And he was going to keep on seeing her even if it meant endangering her. He was strong enough to protect her. Then, he felt something disrupting his thoughts, slowly, and he couldn’t make out the words on the paper anymore. His throat and his head hurt, but up till now, he had thought it was the reading and the lack of water.

He sneezed and wiped his nose with his sleeve, mad at the idea he was falling ill. Because he was falling ill, he could tell as much.

 _Why?_ His souls asked.

Because his mind was still a maze and his eyes had trouble seeing clearly and his hands were shaking as if it was suddenly cold in the room. It couldn’t be that cold, not so quickly. He sneezed again, before to growl with anger. It really was a good idea to reject Lust now, his practical mind was comforting his ego on the question. To think he was going to meet Father in that sorry state. He already wanted to ditch on that meeting, but he was way too proud to do so.

...

It revealed to be a pain to stand still on his weakening legs to listen to his master ranting over what should be done and undone.

“First, I planned for you to become an instructor. You already have good experience. In the next three years, you should become liked and respected enough to be promoted to a trainer. You’ve already trained new soldiers, but I want it official. Consider this as your first step in the journey to you becoming Fuhrer.”

Bradley had trouble understanding every word. His head hurt as if it was going to burst, which made listening intently a tremendous task.

“Is three years a time limit, sir?”

It sounded so long! He felt so young and so trapped. Three years. Three years just to achieve a small step to his life’s greatest goal!

 _I was made for so much more than this. I survived everything to climb higher and still, I need to wait?! And what do I have to pass time? What do I have to endure this unfairness?_ He thought bitterly.

He tried to clear his tied throat, but his breathing was stuck in his chest, knotted by a cough he had to hold back, so he could hide his human weakness. Who’d thought a homunculus could fall ill? He was super human, so how could he show failure in front of his ominous creator?

Not that he liked calling him his creator. His doctor Frankenstein, maybe, with the help of Goldtooth...

“You intend to go faster, don’t you, my Wrath? Does it infuriate you, that you have to go through the human’s system and its limits? What else can you do?”

You’re still experimenting, having fun trying to understand me, because I’m not the same “greater” race as you. Try as much as you want, but you’ll never understand!

He was stuck on that. He refused to answer and Father’s patience quickly wore off.

“So you’ll obey in your way, Wrath? Is that what I have to understand here?”

“I exist to serve,” he retorted, blinking to chase away some sweat trailing down his brow.

His expression was unreadable, but still, his sentence got Father to laugh. It was such an irony, really!

“You’re such a willing underling. I should have turned every homunculus into soldier first. It’s quite handy, really...”

Father talked more, but Wrath barely heard anything. He had small goals to pave the road to him becoming the Fuhrer. He couldn’t care less at the moment, he felt like a zombie. Hell, he had to be running a fever or something, his right eye was throbbing with pain. He barely walked out on his two feet and hardly managed to get himself to his squad’s barracks.

His mind was filled with fog and the air felt terribly cold, inside or outside. He collapsed on his bed and crashed asleep, with horrid voices yelling in his head.

...

He was woken up by fingers gently replacing his hair and the soothing stroking of a wet piece of fabric on his forehead.

“I can’t believe you got yourself sick, Bradley...” a familiar voice whispered, sounding slightly disapproving.

He blinked, his tattooed eye throbbing from pain and he looked around, to face Amelia. He was sweaty from the running fever and inhaled sharply as he realized she was seeing him in the sorry state. That was the last thing he needed to feel better. At least, regarding his pride... His breath turned into coughs and worries were clear on Amelia’s figure.

“Who warned you?” he asked as the coughing died down.

He tried to raise himself up on his elbow, only to be pushed back down on his pillows.

“That would be me, sergeant. I thought it was the better way to get you feeling better soon. You’ve been pretty depressed lately, anyway, so sick or not, I guess it can’t hurt to have a little company.” Grumman observed from behind.

He was standing across the room, his back on the wall and his arms folded, looking rather full of himself, quite as always. But Juliett walked in and gave the blond man a slight punch in the shoulder, before to smile at her fellow soldier.

“It was my idea. Grumman simply followed it and went to pick up Amelia at her place.”

Bradley was more touched by the gesture and the attention then he’d want to be, but Amelia’s warm smile convinced him that it was alright and that he shouldn’t worry. He lied back, slowly relaxing.

“Still, there was no necessity to come all the way out here for me. It’s just a cold.” He croaked, shivering despite all his efforts to look strong.

“I don’t think it’s your every day cold,” Juliett observed. “Your left eye’s wounds reopened, you know?”

He looked surprised; though that would explain the throbbing pain he had been feeling during the last hours...

“I think you overwork yourself.” Grumman analyzed, nodding to himself, playing with his moustache.

“I didn’t...!”

“Calm down, Brad.” Amelia cut him off. “Being a soldier ain’t easy. You wouldn’t be the first one to overexert yourself.”

He scowled, looking away from her. He wasn’t too sure he liked that position they were in, with her sitting at his bedside and him merely trying to focus on staying awake, lying in bed like an invalid.

Maybe was he exaggerating a little, but still... He felt inappropriate and weak. And that wasn’t a nice feeling, especially when he knew that he was a superior being than all the humans trying to comfort him about his state.

“Alright, maybe I need some rest.” He reluctantly accepted.

They remained in silence for a moment, until that Juliett gently shoved her elbow in Grumman’s ribs, and gave him a non too subtle sign, as if they should walk away to give the soldier and his friend some air. Eli was clueless for a moment, and suddenly seemed to understand, as Bradley looked at them and wondered why he had to be surrounded by grown-ups acting like kids.

“I just remember, I got this important assignment to attend to, so I got to leave. If you need anything, miss Amelia, just talk to our boss in the other room.”

That meant Kimblee and that guy was the last person Bradley wanted to see meeting Amelia, but well, she had certainly already seen him and there was nothing he could do to help it now that she was here.

“I’ve got work too,” Juliett added with a smile. “Take good care of our comrade for us, Amelia!”

The pair of friends walked out, Grumman giving Brad one of his trademark grins that meant someone was lucky as hell to be ill. And Bradley couldn’t help but feel manipulated. What was he supposed to do? He certainly looked like crap, his mind was still hazy, which made it hard to think clearly. He was going to say dumb things, and cover himself in shame and that was the last thing he wanted.

But Amelia didn’t care about that. He forgot it a lot, but she wasn’t that kind of girl. He was already starting to think there really were many kinds of girls, as Grumman had taught him.

“How does your eye feel?”

“What about my...?!”

Bradley shut up; suddenly realizing his eye patch was gone. He could feel the air directly on his left eyelids. He couldn’t see anything though, his eye was shut, but he became worried sick at the idea someone could have spotted his secret.

He covered the left side of his face with his hand, trying to keep his voice calm.

“It’s still hurt, but it’s less painful than earlier.” He tried to comfort her. “Where’s my eye patch?”

He needed it to hide the truth, quickly. He wasn’t sure if he could keep his eye shut, since he hadn’t much practice at it. He would often open both eyes and just adapt at seeing nothing but darkness on the left...

“You can’t put it back right now. At least, that’s what the doctor said. It’s your eyelids which were wounded, right? Your eye is shut so firmly...”

“I know... They burned me, that’s why...” he quickly lied.

She shivered and he was ashamed of the lie. But what other choice was there, huh?

“It’s really sad, that they did such a thing.” He looked at her, surprised of her comment and she explained herself with a shy smile, closing her eyes: “You have such a nice eye’s color.”

And that, that was a real compliment, far better than whatever Lust could have told him moments ago. Though he didn’t like to think of Lust while facing Amelia. And he was mad at himself for caring about what _she_ thought.

“Thanks... I guess.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean... Oh, I don’t know why I’m apologizing or why you’re looking so down.”

“Not too sure myself.” He looked away and sneezed, which made her jump a little, but then looked back. “It’s been a long day. And my head’s like a battlefield.”

She looked taken aback by his choice of words. But then she smiled, with a hint of bitterness in her eyes.

“Trying to say the war is over too soon won’t get you anywhere. If you’re running away from your fears, they’ll get the better of you.”

“I don’t fear anything!” he protested, raising up to back his point.

“That’s worst than running away,” she retorted, gently but firmly pushing him back down. “Come on Brad, we all have limits.”

“Well that’s a lie. Because your patience has certainly no bound.”

“Oh, I’m not that patient with anyone.”

The question slipped through his lips before he could utter a second thought:

“Then why are you like that with me?”

She blinked and blushed as she realized what he truly meant, looking at her with his sleepy right eye.

 _Why are you acting different with me? What are we to each other? I can spit on Lust, but I have trouble lying to you...What is this feeling that whatever could happen, as long as you’d be there with me..._ he thought.

He couldn’t push the thought any further. It was scary. He felt dependant of her. He wanted her to be in the same state of mind. He wanted her to keep acting differently for him, because he was different. And she felt different.

“You’re really perceptive, for someone with just one eye,” she observed, trying to joke.

She seemed nervous suddenly, shifting a lot on her chair, running one hand through her messily tied hair. She had no idea what was exactly going on between them. And she was starting to wonder herself what that strange man truly meant to her.

“Hey, calm down. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

He coughed a little and she shook her head.

“How could I be impatient with someone that sick?”

“I’m not _dying_ , it’s just a cold!”

She laughed at that.

“You’re quite obstinate, King, you know that? That’s why being patient is the only way to deal with you.”

He grimaced at the name she gave him.

“It’s Brad.” He said, looking away from her.

“I think King suits you fine.”

“Well, I like it more when you say ‘Brad’.” He insisted.

“And how should I say it then?” she playfully asked.

She tried an arrogant voice, which was as close as she could get to military way of calling someone: “Bradley!”

He smiled despite all his attempts to stay serious, before to shake his head.

 _“Brad”_ , she then whispered, gently, as if saying it too loud could hurt him.

Another shake of the head.

“Bradley,” she tried then, on a really seductive voice.

That got him blinking. So she could have that tone too? And how it send chills through his spine, but good ones this time. He bit his lower lip.

“I think someone outside will get the wrong idea if you say it like that.”

She blushed, laughing though, because this was just a game. And it was okay like that. But then, her eyes reopened and became all serious.

“I’m pretty sure I can get you to like hearing me calling you by your first name.”

“Well, you can try. Amelia...” He said it with a husky voice, just trying to mess with her a little.

It seemed to work, as she stiffened in her chair, before to look at the ceiling. Her cheeks turned slowly pink as he rolled on his side, cuddling his head in the pillow, staring at her with his one good eye, a sly smile on his face. He liked knowing he could have such an effect on her. He bet he wouldn’t have any on Lust, and it was also reassuring.

“Sometimes, you make me feel like a young girl again, you know, King.”

And he could admit that whichever tone she took and whichever name she choose, it sounded good in her mouth. But then again, he was sick and surely the fever was wrecking down his brain. It had to be an explanation. He wasn’t going to fall in love. That was surely impossible for a homunculus anyway.

To be continued...


	8. Segmented Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Wrath struggle with his needs and true desires...

I chose you - Chapter 8

Pants and whispers were all he could hear at first. It took him time to acknowledge he was whispering unintelligible words himself. Then there was fog, which really told him that something was amiss. Bradley tried to focus on asserting his surroundings, but his tattooed eye was covered with his eye patch and his good eye was obstructed by brown hair that surely weren’t from his own head. His stomach was filled with fire and he was holding something, wait, someone warm in his arms. A sense of urgency was filling the air and he realized the person panting right next to him was Amelia herself. Hands were touching and skin was brushing through remote pieces of clothing. She was trying to remove his shirt and he was undressing her with a rashness that he found quite unacceptable. What were they doing? He was no schoolboy, but he was certain he had missed a great chapter of his life, for them to be suddenly so close. Something was wrong, because Amelia’s voice and hands were different. Her accent was strong, and suddenly, he saw the tattoo on her naked chest and her eyes turned to red. Her lips curved in a perverted smile, that had nothing to do with the woman he knew and he woke up, barely holding back his scream.

He looked around him in the dead of the night, making sure Lust wasn’t there, because that had to be her in the end of this weird dream. His breathing was uneven and his multiple souls were laughing at his expenses.

 _Someone has been naughty behind our backs_ , they snickered.

Taking sharp breaths in and out, the young homunculus removed his eye patch, running a hand over his face. He could tell part of this dream was coming from his own wants and that the rest of it was simply from a childish fear of the unknown.

 _I don’t need anything like this in my life_ , he tried to convince himself.

Nor the pain, nor the pants and even less the panicked caresses. Amelia’s presence was enough in itself to make him feel whole and normal, which was already something. Her smile was a grace that kept his feet on the ground. Her eyes staring at him could never hold anything like Lust’s eyes, because she would be corrupted in his point of view and it was wrong for her to be impure.

 _Don’t think so greatly of humans_ , his souls warned him.

Humans in general were inferior, but Bradley had made some friends among them as impossible at it may sound for someone like him.

 _I’ll think what I want_ , he retorted angrily.

...

The sword cut through thin air and wood and flesh, provoking a chilly scream. Bradley could almost taste the blood in the air. He was standing outside, his blade plunged in the backdoor of a small house, tearing a wound in the defecting scientist's stomach on the other side of the door. There had been a mistake, back at the lab where they were developing Father's dolls. One of the newest employees had decided to resign from his post. The problem was that you couldn't simply quit this job. And human's silence had a cheap price. One's life.

Bradley gritted his teeth as his victim panted and gasped from the pain. Blood was leaking from the door step. That moron had tried to run and Envy had decided it would make a good occasion to test his young brother Wrath.

"Get out of here, you're just making it worse." he'd warned the man, before to stab him.

He already knew he would hit a vital spot, and it wasn't out of compassion that he gave a warning. He was pissed, knowing that he himself would get the same treament if he was to run from the other homonculi. Not that King Bradley would ever act as cowardly as to run away from the life that had been designed for him. It was just another step toward his goal, bearing it all. He wasn't even human anymore, so why would he even want to run away? Because all this hadn't been his own choice? Because he hated Father and all of his so-called bothers? Because he had to kill, which was almost as infuriating as waiting for his greatest goal -becoming Fuhrer- to be achieved?

Where would he run, anyway? There was no family, no country to go with his medical file. He was a mere number in the lot. A cog in the machine. A pawn on the field. A puppet with invisible strings. And that drove him mad. Mad to the point where he almost felt jealous of that guy for trying to run away.

_If I tried, it might... just might work. After all..._

But those thoughts were forbidden, just as running away was...

"Why are you doing this? I swore I'd stay... quiet about all this!"

"You had your chance to be quiet. Quietly do your work! That's what you humans are good at!"

Bradley really had no compassion in him at that point. He was enraged. And as he realized that he could just pull the sword out and let the ex-scientist bleed to death, he understood that he wanted to make him pay.

Make him pay for being human. Make him pay for standing up against Father just by running away. Because behind pride, there was shame and beneath the shame so much pain...

"Who... What are you?!"

King kicked in the door, slamming it open, freeing his sword and sending the middle-aged man to the floor, clutching to his spilling guts.

"You may try and guess. But with all the time you got left, it would be pointless. Just as it was pointless to run."

As soon it was said and as he saw the man cowering in fear at his feet, he felt disappointed. How lame. He was starting to sound like some serial killer maniac when this was just a job. He was getting too emotional. He wanted to be feared, alright, but respected too. There had to be some way to threaten someone while remaining elegant.

"What about eternal life?"

"A convenient lie."He paused, running the tip of his sword over the floor, appreciating the sound it made. As he looked back at the man and saw that he was still alive, he sighed, but put on a smile.

"Now now, you're a tough guy, I'll admit as much. Tell me what's worth hanging on? Your insides are almost all on the outside."

Bradey knew it was a mistake, talking to him. But he was acting on the spur of the moment.

"As... as long as there's life... there's..."

The homonculus slashed his throat open at that, refusing to hear the word "hope" coming out from his mouth. How could there be any hope, when everything, **_everything_** , was already planned?!

Then he thought of Amelia. So there was hope. But such a small hope since he was what he was and had done what he did.

"Hope must be a frailer thing then you human."

 _Maybe even frailer than me._ He who was in between both worlds. He dried his blade from the blood and sheathed it, before to turn his back on the corpse and closing the door behind him. Gluttony and Lust would remove any evidence, or well, eat any evidence, down to the victim itself. Bradley hadn't had to be really cautious, since they were on the outskirts of the city and it wasn't really occupied with civilians. It had been a long race and it would be a long walk back to his casern.

But Bradley's anger was tired now. He walked slowly, forcing himself not to drag his feet. This was a test, and he had passed, at least, from Father's point of view. But the killing had taken to long. The rage had surpassed his skills. As a human, he had failed. Was this part of the Fuhrer he was supposed to become? Was this really okay? Why was he feeling guilty of anything? He had killed countless, even helpless, people before. Men, women, children. He was no saint, no man, he was a soldier. But he wondered. Wasn't he guilty just because there was another side of him that he could never show to Amelia?

...

Right when he was starting to wonder if he should show around Amelia's hotel -King was still shy about the status of their relationship and knew that if he insisted anymore, it would be seen as a courtship, when he was supposed to marry someone with a higher rank in society-, a letter arrived for him at the casern.

"Well, well, if it isn't from your pretty Amelia! I guess she must be feeling lonely." Grumman observed as he red the address on the envelop, stroking one side of his moustache, smirking idly.

"You haven't visited her in a while, have you?" Juliett remarked.

"We all have been overloaded with work, lately," he retorted, forcing himself not to snap at their jokes, but snatching the letter from Eli's hands.

He knew they were just gently messing around. He was naturally mad at any time of the day, but today, he didn't really felt like showing it. Amelia had written to him. He just wished he could sit quietly alone to read whatever she had written. But the others were looking so expectantly at him that he could guess what they'd say if he went away. He opened the letter casually, unfolding it with as much confidence as he could put in the gesture and managed to look absent-minded as he red its content.

_Dear Brad,_

_It's been some time since we last met. I hope your fever is all healed up, right? You could try to let me know what's going on. Some friend you are. Anyway... If you have any time in your busy schedule as a soldier, could you come and give me a visit? My aunt has been on edge lately. I could use a change of scenery._

_If you don't have time, I'll understand. Just get in touch, okay?_

_with all my best wishes,_

_Amelia_

He frowned as he looked up and fold the letter as soon as he realized that the two soldiers were leaning over his shoulders to read it too.

"Seriously, guys, there's only my name on the envelop!"

"All her best wishes?" Grumman repeated. "Man, what have you been doing, seriously? She doesn't even send you a kiss..."

Juliett laughed behind her left hand, before to wink at him.

"You know, it's okay to take things slow. You're a gentleman after all, sergeant. But not giving any news for weeks may mean a certain... lack of interest. A woman needs to feel important."

"I'm not trying to go out with her or... Argh! Stop acting as if I was some schoolboy!"

Grumman gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder.

"Come on, Brad, you can't mean it. Such a nice girl, just about your age? If you're not interested, I'll be the one who'll get in touch with her. My experience never failed me."

King was shocked and it showed in his face, much to Grumman's amusement, though Juliett didn't seem too supportive of their superior's behaviour.

"Now, Eli, don't you cross the line!" she warned him.

"You'd have to lose one eye to be her type." Bradley added, regaining his composure and crossing his arms behind his head.

"Oh, so you're suddenly confident? Even though you'd never had even one girlfriend in your whole life?"

Bradley wasn't sure if he should get angry about that insult, since after all, it really wasn't his fault. He had been raised surrounded by other guys and just recently started interacting with women. And it wasn't rare for military men to stay bachelors for long time. But then again, he didn't like to be made fun of or to seem to lack anything compared to another human. He was supposed to be much better. Fortunately, Kimblee entered the room at this instant, raising one brow as he noticed how everyone's desk was vacant except for Bradley's.

"Aren't you **all** supposed to be working on your paperwork? Grumman, you should be giving the example to the others!"

For once, their colonel didn't seem in the mood for jokes, so Juliett and Eli went back to their places. Bradley was left with the same question floating in his head for the rest of the afternoon. Why did Amelia had literally asked him to come and see her? Was something amiss? Or could she simply be missing him? He sure had missed her, but he still felt too clumsy and rash around her. Not to mention that he had been waiting to wake up in the morning to find that the face looking back at him in the mirror was friendly enough to go meet her. Seemed this couldn't wait anymore. His hair was a mess from being teased by Grumman during their break, but he managed to fix it, except for the few unruly locks falling on his forehead. He barely took the time to change into civil clothes, a pair of blue jeans and a black shirt. He had met Amelia too often in his soldier uniform. And maybe all the insinuations of Grumman were bearing fruits. He desperately wanted to make a good impression, after all the weeks it had been.

The walk towards her hotel seemed longer than usual and for once, he wondered if he should have called before. She always seemed ready to see him when he showed up, but that had been only twice or trice...

It seemed like a much much longer time, since all their meeting were separated by months usually. Winter would soon arrive, the ground was slowly freezing. All that they were lacking was snow. His heart was still warm, though, since he knew Amelia had hoped to see him. Her interest for him wasn't calculated. She might be the only normal thing in his whole life...

 _You're not falling in love, Bradley, you're not. It's just a friendly visit_ , he told himself.

But as soon as he spotted her, he couldn't even hear the laughs from the souls left in his head. She was washing the windows from the second floor, standing right on the semi-roof. She was wearing a pair of pants for the first time since he'd met her, but she still looked feminine and sweet with her two bunches. He felt worry growing up inside him as he realized she wasn't tied to anything and that she could fall at any wrong move. He didn't dare to greet her as she was focused on her work. He would have to scold her for not being more careful later, if she let him the chance too. He leaned over a nearby building, crossing his arms over his chest as he readied himself to wait for her to be done.

It was a strange feeling, to wait for someone. The idea made him smile, for some reason. To think the future Fuhrer was forced to wait on some common girl. But Amelia wasn't just any common girl. She wasn't plain, though she wasn't some outrageous beauty. Her personality made her all the more interesting. He had the impression of knowing her so well after so little time spent with her. He remembered how she'd obliviously took the sun in and how she'd slap him on their first encounter. His smile grew wider. And then, she made him jump by suddenly yelling at him:

"KING?! How long have you been here? You should have told me!"

She had noticed him while he was reminiscing. He had no idea how much time had passed, though his souls seemed sure that it hadn't been that long.

"Don't yell like that, you almost gave me a heart attack!" he protested.

"You, having a heart attack? What about me? I'm working here and...!"

"Amelia, how many times should I tell you not to shout your life from the rooftop? Everybody can hear you like this. Get down to greet your guest at least!" her aunt intervened from the first floor.

The young woman blushed a little, before to make a sign in Bradley's direction to tell him that she wouldn't be long. He simply nodded, with a sly smile. A few minutes later, she was down on earth and right in front of him.

"I take it you've gotten my letter." was all he got as a greeting.

"What letter?" he replied playfully.

"Don't mess around. I sent it yesterday and you show up now."

"What if this was a coincidence? I've been meaning to come way sooner."

He had figured that showing up just because of the letter wouldn't sound as good as saying he just wanted to see her.

"That's sweet, King."

"Brad."

"It'll be King for today. You've been ignoring me." she said, pouting slightly.

It was all part of her play, so he just sighed.

"I didn't come to give you excuses, Amelia."

"No, you came because I asked you to."

"Are you planning on talking while standing in the middle of the street? Or do you want to take a walk and vent it all out on me?"

"Vent it out on you? No way! I'm not angry... After all, you don't have to come around and check on me or anything. It's just that..."

She suddenly seemed shy and something in him melt at the sight of her fragility. He was trying to act confident, but he was a bundle of nerves at this point. What was part of her game and what was real? He couldn't tell. He looked around and noticed someone in one of the hotel's windows. Looking intently at them. And more intently at him. As if he was some dangerous creature or something.

"Amelia, your aunt is staring at us." he warned her.

"Oh... Then, let's take a walk. We could go back to that park, from the last time, don't you think?"

"Sure."

She led the way, happy to jump on this occasion to avoid eye contact or to resume in their discussion. He quickly caught up with her, but not before to observe the way her hair was moving with each of her motion, or her blouse underneath her frilly vest that looked quite good on her. She was wearing boots with small heels and seemed somewhat taller. She had changed some of her clothing as he'd been waiting for her. Suddenly, he realized that it was starting to look like a lover's quarrel. He had seen one once, between Juliett and her husband. But he was pretty sure that Amelia wasn't his girlfriend. She would have asked him if she were, wouldn't she?

They kept silence at first, trying to match their pace to each other. He didn't want her to run beside him and she didn't want him to feel as if he wasn't even moving. Their arms brushed slightly as they walked and she jerked away, as if his touch was dangerous. Or maybe was it just wrong for people their age to act too familiar.

"It's really been a while, huh?" he started, trying to make small talk since she remained silent. "I never found a good occasion for passing by. And work has been piling up. I had to chase a criminal around Central the other month. I wasn't in a state to see anyone." he admitted in a whisper.

"I thought you weren't here to apologize?"

"This isn't an excuse. I'm just being honest. And trying to get you to talk." he added with a smirk.

She smiled at that, but just for a moment.

"You caught him?"

"Who?"

"The criminal you just mentioned."

"Oh... Yeah. I just... didn't like the outcome. But I don't wanna talk about that."

"Of course."

Silence came back and he sighed.

"Are you feeling uneasy, King?"

"Well, you're angry with me." he said as they crossed the street.

"I said I wasn't angry."

"Then why the letter?"

She looked up at him, catching his eye in hers for a while and missed her step as they were getting back on the sidewalk. He caught her by sheer reflex, grabbing her by the shoulders to keep her steady. He had to drag her in some kind of hug to make sure she was alright. The sudden closeness seemed to surprise her more than her fall.

"You're kind. But you're distant." she declared.

He blinked at that.

"Distant? I'm holding you up right now."

She shook her head.

"We meet once for each three months or so. And still, I feel as if I knew you a lot more than that."

"Oh, you don't. I'm not that easy to figure out."

"I know."

She pushed him away and resumed walking, leaving him with even more questions. He dashed behind her, putting one hand on her right shoulder.

"What's up with you, Amelia?"

"Nothing. I'm just leaving in a few weeks to visit my parents. I wanted to let you know. You're the only real friend I've made since I've arrived in Central."

"Okay... That makes no sense. You must have dozens of friends. Everyone likes you."

"You're wrong, Bra... I meant, King. Oh, darn it!"

"Amelia!"

It was his first time hearing her swear and it sounded wrong, almost as wrong as the nightmare he'd made weeks ago.

"I don't want to leave. There was something growing up between us. A complicity I've never had with anyone else. I thought it would get even better after the last time we saw each other, but then you didn't visit the hotel for weeks and I didn't know what to think anymore."

He gulped down, trying to register all those new information. She was definitely mad. But she had no right to be, had she?

"I... Why are you even upset?"

"I don't know! I don't know and I never intended to get upset!"

At that point, he understood that they needed a calm place to get things explained. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and gently dragged her with him. He didn't even know he could do it gently, he usually dragged people to the execution's room or peloton. But he wanted to be careful around her.

"Calm down for now. Did something happen during the last weeks? Something except me not showing around?"

She blinked.

"Why would...?"

"I've never seen you like this."

"There was... some prank calls lately." she reluctantly admitted. As she started talking, it seemed that she couldn't stop herself anymore and she went on: "People saying that they would plant a bomb in our hotel or do a holdup or something. People warning my aunt not to let me out of her sight. A guy even asked me if my parents were alright back home, but his voice was so creepy... My father was attacked last week in our hometown."

The first thing that came to mind was that it made no sense to threaten Amelia. Unless the homonculi thought that she was no good for him, like Golden tooth did. His grip tightened over her shoulder and he unconsciously pulled her closer. This was his fault, right? Just for those few times spent together?

 _We'd warn you_ , his souls echoed in his head.

But maybe was he just turning paranoid.

"It sounds serious."

"At first, we thought it was just some teenage boys doing jokes, you know. But they broke balloons filled with scarlet juice in the windows the other night and... It's become harder and harder to push this back from our thoughts. My aunt had some trouble with her finances, about the way she acquired the building, so she didn't dare to contact the army."

"So this isn't about us."

"Don't get me wrong. I didn't ask you to come just to ask for help. At first, I wanted to keep those calls and pranks a secret..."

"I'm not sure you can call those pranks."

They had reached the park, but King was on autopilot, entirely focused on Amelia.

"Brad, I don't want you all worried over me. I just wanted you to understand that my little tantrum just now wasn't your fault. I'm a little stressed out."

"Just a little?"

" As long as the calls were just calls, I didn't got too worried."

He led her to a bench in the park, but she shook her head and grabbed his hand, dragging him to a hill where she invited him to sat, after removing her jacket to use it as a blanket.

"What do you want me to do? I can at least have an investigation started."

"I don't want to burden you with this..."

"It's no problem. I'll find a way to set things straight."

"I'm no damsel in distress, Brad. Don't get all knightly on me."

But her hands were shaking as she forced on a smile. And the urge to protect her was so strong at this rate, he had to control his body from moving on its own. His throat felt too tight. There was pain and shame for not checking on her safety before. He'd never thought anything could happen to her. Maybe use that magic way of thinking that if you don't even think about something, it won't happened. But now, she was threatened and scared.

"When are you leaving?"

"In a few days. My aunt want me safe back home for the time being," she sighed. "Not that I'd feel any safer there, since my father was attacked, but it's been a long time since I last saw my parents..."

Somehow, Bradley realized at this point that Amelia had turned into a steady notion for him. He'd never expect her to go away. She could have vanished at any time, without giving him any news about it. If he had waited any longer, she could already have been gone when he'd walked up to her place.

"So... You asked me out here to have me righting the problem with those threats or just... to have me preventing you from leaving?"

"No, no. Just to check if we... could keep in touch, you know?"

He wondered if he should touch her, but refrained from it.

"Like letters?"

The ghost of a smile danced on his lips and she nodded, slowly, worried of looking too eager.

"Would you have time for that?"

"I could make some. But I don't know what I could be writing. It'd certainly sound boring."

Her laugh was music in his ears at that point and she gave him a little push on the shoulder, as if to ask him to get serious. Unconsciously, he grabbed her hand in his, their fingers intertwining. She leaned on his shoulder, still smiling. Her smell surrounded him for an instant. It was fresh and clean. He felt lighter and bolder. Before that his souls could tease him, he had wrapped his arms around her. She didn't flinch, accepting this embrace. And the fact she would leave soon may have been the reason why he was letting his emotions take over. A Central without her was like his world when he was just number 12.

"You'll have to sent me reports of your situation, so that I'm sure you're safe despite all those threats." he added.

"You should leave your job at home, Brad."

"No more King?"

"No more King."

"Just when I was starting to get used to it." he sighed.

"You're unbelievable!"

To be continued.


	9. Taking a chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley tries to be true to himself...

I chose you - Chapter 9

"I never thought a man could be that indifferent. When I take some time off my schedule to meet a bachelor...! I thought that this was supposed to be a date."

Her name was Karole. Not that it really mattered to Bradley. He had spent the last three hours of his life with her. And she was everything he hated about human. Vain, superficial, high-classed. She was wearing heels that made her taller than him. She was wearing a dress that seemed out of place, too many pearls, that all caught the light and blinded his only eye. She had presented herself as the heiress of a fortune. He could guess easily why she'd follow him as a husband. It would give her status, and power. She knew he was going to become fuhrer. He guessed that meant he would have to kill her.

"He's a block of ice. When I gave him my hand, he shook it!"

She was shrieking and he gritted his teeth. Oh, killing her would feel so good. There would be no shame to it. She was a disgrace to the rest of the human race. Oh, sure, she was the daughter of some guy, a director from the company which served as the main source of weapons supply for the army. So that would make it wrong to kill her. Not that Bradley thought that he would get caught. Father would know, but that was the last of his worries at the moment.

"Did you hear me, father? He shook it!"

What was he supposed to do with her hand, kiss it?! As if he would do that. He barely knew her. Never asked to meet her. Never wanted to meet her. He could be with Amelia right now, but he had accepted to meet a few potential wives, in exchange for her safety. He was still wondering why he couldn't decide himself who he would marry. Wasn't it to soon? It would look strange, right, for such a low ranking officer to marry such a woman. He didn't want to have a wife that would shriek. His hearing was already too good for his own good, and shrieking...

"Just give yourself some time, Karole. You're still young." her father tried to calm her down.

The scientists must be paying those people with gold if they were willing to put up with him. Bradley wasn't really social, but he had made his best to be at his worst with them. He didn't talk, barely respond, didn't try to make conversation. He had managed to only say yes and no for the last three hours. And he could say that he was happy to have met a woman that was so hateable. Amelia could stay the only one in his mind, even if it was wrong. And it was wrong, because it meant putting her in danger. But he was slowly accepting it. Anyone could die. Even him. And everyone would die on the promised day. So he had to make the most out of the time he had now. And that meant that he'd decided on some things.

_There's one person that I want. I won't let them take her away from me._

If it meant humiliation like that one he was living right now, so be it.

 _You're so cute, Wrath_ , his souls whispered to him.

"I want those three hours in my life restored! This was a loss of time!" Karole insisted.

 _I'm definitely killing that bitch_ , he thought as he rolled his eyes.

Amelia wouldn't be too proud of him, but she didn't have to know. He wasn't going to feel ashamed for all the people he'd removed from the surface of the earth.

"You see how annoyed he is! He doesn't even try to convince me to give us another try!"

_I wonder if you'd give a stomach ache to Glutonny..._

He managed a smile, somehow. He just had an idea. He cleared his throat to get the other two's attention.

"If you're giving up so easily, you're not fit to be a Fuhrer's wife. I'll need someone supportive, someone that stand up for me at all cost. I think we've indulged to your rants for long enough." he declared.

...

"If you're not even trying, what's the point in meeting those women?" Lust asked him.

"Father asked me to meet them, so I meet them. He didn't tell me to get along with them."

They were walking in the underground passage, heading toward the place where Sloth was supposed to be working. It was Wrath's punishment for not putting any more effort into his "courtship debut". Lust was there to check up on him, but it seemed that she was set on getting to know him better. The noise of her high heels hitting the floor was getting on his nerves, but he guessed that he could live with that. It was already better to be sent on a mission with her instead of Envy. He really wanted to run his sword through Envy's mouth every now and then.

"Maybe I should ask him to be more precise when he sent you on mission?"

"I won't change my course of action. I don't care about those women."

"Are you pretending to be in love?"

"Preposterous..."

"You must think something of her, otherwise, you'd at least try one of those potential wives..."

"More walk, less talk." he ordered.

"Could it be that you're impotent, Wrath?"

Her tone was chilly and mocking and he felt insulted despite all his efforts to just stay angry at her and not to let her words turn into anything else. Instead of glaring at her, he controlled his voice and retorted with a laugh:

"Worried about your little brother, are you?"

She sneered in response and he smiled fully. One for Wrath, zero for Lust.

"You're not worthy of calling yourself my brother yet." she elegantly said, walking faster in the dark tunnel.

Bradley had removed his eye patch and could see just fine in the dark, just as her.

"Well, well, I guess being the first human made homonculus won't help. But I'm the first of my kind. Means something. Which one are you? Third one, fourth one? I don't even wanna know what he used to built you."

There was a laughing in the air and he looked up, surprised to realize that it didn't come from Lust.

"Don't get scared, Wrath. We might not be alone in this tunnel, but _he_ would never harm us." she intervened, her smile too wide for her perfect lips.

He remained silent, wondering what that could mean. There was Envy, and Glutonny, and Sloth, and Lust, and Greed and him. That made six sins out of seven. The one left out was... pride. So maybe was he already created?

"If he's here, why isn't he the one checking on Sloth's work?"

"Because Father wants you to do it. I hope you'll get blisters from this walk."

"Don't act like Envy..."

She hissed a brow at that, which he didn't see of course, but she seemed genuinely surprised that he knew when she was overdoing it or not.

"Worried about your big sister, are you now?"

He laughed at that, but not to mock her or anything.

"Take it as you want. Just give up the false pretences. I'm already mad enough as it is."

He wasn't sure what he told her that, but he guessed that it came out naturally, as something that just needed to be said. Even if she was kinda scary because she could use her charms even against him, he felt more sympathy for her than for the whole rest of his brothers. She was classy, in a way. And there was a certain dignity to her when she wasn't trying to test him.

"So, how often are you mad?"

"All the time."

"Sounds intense. You must be passionate then, when you let it out."

"How much farther can he be?!" he whispered, scowling.

She laughed at that and he sighed. Because she was wearing off his patience. If she wanted him to unsheathe his swords and give her a beating, he could indulge her.

"Why so impatient? Wanna be back outside to meet with your woman before that she leaves?"

"So you like it better down here? I didn't know you were the bat type of person." He retorted.

“Don’t try to change the subject, Wrath. Just spill the beans. You’re the first human based homunculus, you said it yourself; and I can’t help being curious about you. About your reasons, your thoughts… You’re interested in that woman, at least admit it.”

He felt uneasy to see her so insistent on the subject. Wasn’t she going to repeat it all to Father? He couldn’t trust her as he did withJuliett. Did Lust reminded him of Juliett? That sounded so wrong.

“Drop it.” He barked.

“You’re getting all nervous for such frivolous thing, Wrath! It’s endearing.”

He gritted his teeth, trying to find it inside him to get mad at her. But for some reason, her nagging wasn’t getting on his nerves. He was scared of revealing too much. He had already been too earnest about his opinions and feelings. Anyone from the army could tell Father about Amelia. Envy knew. And he still wasn’t sure that he could really hope for any future for the both of them. She was a little concerned about this after all and the last thing he wanted was for her to be in the same situation as him. He couldn’t drag her into this. He already hated lying to her all the time!Through his contrary thoughts, his souls were cheering him up.

_It doesn’t feel like a trap Brad. You shouldn’t be all grumpy about it. It’s okay to have a heart, even in the state you’re in. You’d better make a good use of your life and that woman is a good investment, believe us!_

They had never felt that supportive, almost friendly, when all he ever saw in them was a brute force to be tamed…

“Don’t you patronize me! I don’t need a sister.”

“And here I am with six brothers. Do I complain about it?”

No, she even seemed to take a lot of pride in being a homunculus. And among them, she was one of the best fighter, he had to give her that.

“What do you want, huh? Just say it.”

“Always so direct! Pushy boy!” she smiled, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

And for some reason, he felt embarrassed as she said that. As if he was guilty of something. As if her opinion mattered to him.

 _Relax Brad_ , he told himself. _You’re losing your bearing because of the feel of this place. She’s not the only one watching you. Don’t slip._

What was there to slip? He had no secret, had he? Amelia wasn’t…

“Could you be able to love a human, Wrath? After all, we love our father, so you don’t have to feel only anger. We’re not entirely defined by our sin…”

“Love is nothing but a foolish word born from human’s illusions.” He heard himself retort.

“Wrath, Wrath, don’t lie to me. You’re still wet behind the ears if you think you can fool _me_.”

He froze there, slightly irritated.

“Okay, now you tell me loud and clear. Are we taking this _stroll_ to meet up with Sloth or are you supposed to interrogate me?”

She stared back right into his glaring eyes, her lip curving in a smirk as she slightly bent her head to the side.

“Oh King, don’t be like that. This talk will stay between us, you know. I like to push people with their back against the wall. I’m just messing around with you and you know it.”

He stood still, his brow furrowed, both of his eyes still glaring. She wasn’t going to reach him like that. Whatever her little game was about…

“You look so confused, Wrath. It’s no good. You met one of your perspective wife, but you just didn’t care. You have one of the hardest missions among us all, to fit in the human world at all time. If you want to choose your partner out there, you still can. It could be that Amelia. Or it could be anyone else. It could even be me, if Father really wants to keep you in check. But I’d rather not. Formal clothes are way too restricting.” She said, winking at him.

Oh, he wanted to stab her. But at the same time, behind the flirt, he could tell she was trying to help. Or well, she was trying to make him believe that she was trying to help. Whatever it was, her point hit home. Amelia could be his. Well, if she wanted him, that was, but Father didn’t have to dictate even that aspect of his life. There was certainly a way to… But that made no sense! It would be too dangerous for Amelia! _She’ll be in danger anyway_ , his souls reminded him.

“Damn you…” he sighed as he turned on his heels. “Go see Envy if I cared. I don’t have time for this.”

Lust shook her head, but let him go on his own. He was off for some deep thinking.

“What’s your goal, ultimate lance?” Pride asked after a few minutes.

“I want to see what he’s capable of. Is he a weak human barely strengthened by a philosopher stone? Is he as cocky as Greed? To what extent can he restrain his anger?”

“I see. I’ll keep an eye on him and let you know. This will certainly be entertaining.”

“I certainly hope so. We still have years before the promised day.”

A creepy smile grew on the wall behind her. And the shadows erased the smile on her own face, swallowing her whole.

…

There was a frisky breeze in the air that day. Bradley wasn’t dressed for frisky breeze, but then again, he had been forced to run on his way here to make it in time. Sloth really worked too far from Central and he was never getting this kind of punishment again if he could prevent it. The train was leaving in fifteen minutes and that was all the time he got to give his goodbyes to Amelia. She was already there, charging her luggage in her wagon, with her aunt giving directions to the train station’s worker. And to anyone and everyone she deemed needing direction, for that matter.

The young man still had to decide if he threw himself in the water or not. He felt clumsy and out of place. There were too many people out here, especially after walking mostly alone in the endless tunnels beneath Central. And his awkwardness was also starting to get on his nerves. As a Fuhrer, he would have to give speeches and such. There was no way he was staying like this. Like a mess. He replaced the collar of his shirt, taking a deep breath in. He’d rather have the chance to see her alone. Fifteen minutes was far from enough. Heck, three hours wouldn’t have been enough either!

 _Whatever you do out there, don’t shake her hand_ , his souls warned him teasingly.

He smirked at that, feeling a little more confident. He could just ignore her aunt and speak directly to her. Losing his time with doubts wouldn’t get him anywhere. And at this point, he was ready to admit that Lust was right. All this nervousness and eagerness and the fact he already missed her, it all meant something. Something deeper than all the emotions he felt in his earlier life. Something as hard to control as the hate and anger his life was filled with.

“Amelia!” he called out, when he got closer, turning his smirk into a smile.

She turned around, her long braid following her movement gracefully, and she beamed at him so brightly he couldn’t help himself but let his smile soften even more.

“I wasn’t sure if you were still coming to see me off.” She admitted. She gave a sign to her aunt, who took the hint and waved her goodbye, barely acknowledging Bradley’s presence.

“There was no way I’d miss your train.” He retorted.

She blushed and looked down, holding her hands in front of her, fidgeting with her fingers nervously.

“Are you… nervous, Amelia?” he asked, surprised to see her like that.

She seemed even more on edge than he was!

“Kinda. I haven’t been home in a while. And the circumstances…” she started, letting it go just as soon, knowing he’d understand what she meant.

He nodded, biting his lower lip. He didn’t like seeing her feeling uneasy. He got one step closer to her, his shadow falling all over her.

“You’ll do fine. You should be thrilled, you’re getting a vacation. And I made sure that there won’t be any more attacks. We were able to retrace the pranksters.” He added.

“Really?! Wow, Brad… Oh but you didn’t have to…”

He shook his head.

“The army’s here to protect the civilians, right?”

How it seemed easy to spur such a lie. He felt his throat tightening as he realized that she believed him. Guilt was back.

“I’m glad they have a guy like you among their ranks. We’ll be sure that things will go for the better around here.”

And there was more guilt to make his mouth go dry. If only she knew… He hardly gulped down, hoping she didn’t notice his unease.

“You’d better write, huh, King?”

“I will, though I really don’t see what I’ll write about…”

“Anything’s fine. How you’re doing, the temperature, how Grumman’s driving you crazy. Maybe even how you miss me, if you happen to have time to miss me.” She softly added, on a lower tone, her eyes looking away from his.

He scratched the back of his neck at that, slightly intimidated. She was getting cuter each time they met.

“Of course, I’ll miss you.” He blurted out, finding it hard to keep looking at her.

For his original soul’ sake, why did she make him feel so embarrassed! Just as he cursed inwardly for being too honest, he was rewarded by a smile and a rushed hug.

“Oh Brad, you don’t know how that reassures me,” she whispered against his neck. “Here I was, thinking I was being more of an annoyance than anything else.”

“Foolish woman,” he replied, clumsily wrapping his arms around her once he had come back from his surprise.

It felt right to have her so close, even if that meant leaving her so many openings to hurt him. He trusted her. She might be the sole person on this damned earth he trusted despite himself.

“Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t go catching a cold. Don’t get killed.”

“Amelia… Don’t say stuff like that. You shouldn’t worry over me.”

“Of course I should. I care about you, Brad.”

 _I’ve been a freaking idiot to ignore her for the past few weeks_ , he swore to himself.

“That settles it. You’re not leaving anytime soon.” He declared.

“What?!”

She looked up at him, shocked by the authority in his voice.

“Unless you tell me I can court you as soon as you get back in Central.”

Her eyes widened and she seemed to freeze for an instant, with her hands still on his chest. He grabbed her hands in his, not letting go of her gaze.

“Are you serious?”

The bell rung and one of the officer warned the people waiting that the train would be departing in two minutes.

“Dead. So what will it be?”

She blinked, her mouth hanging open, a small blush on her cheeks but her eyes were shining and she jumped in place, amazed as she realized that he was indeed serious.

“Oh Brad, I… I didn’t mean to push you into anything, you must know that, and…”

“Time’s a wasting, Amelia. We need an answer, or you’re missing that train.”

He liked how playful she looked now, how she was back to being herself. And she happy, so happy that all her uneasiness seemed gone. And he didn’t feel all that clumsy anymore. Alright, he was getting pushy, but he was a blunt man and he’d stay true to himself.

Her hands went up to his face and she gave him a peek on the lips, shattering his confident stance with one butterfly kiss. It was too brief, too fleeting, she was already out from his arms, but still smiling as he was the one standing behind in utter shock. She sat in the train and winked at him through the window, playfully, still mischievous, with a growing blush on her cheeks. He just stared at her, mesmerized. He had jumped down the ravine. They were in for it now. But she wanted him. At least, she was ready to give him a try. The ghost of her lips remained on his. He had no idea how he would be able to wait for her return. But it was certainly worth it.

To be continued


	10. Missing you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where letters are written and answers give Wrath much more questions than before.

I chose you – Chapter 10

_Hello Bradley,_

_How are you doing back in Central? I can’t began to explain how surprised and overwhelmed I was when you asked if you could court me. It was so sudden! But, I think that just the way you phrased your demand, I got to know you a lot more. I hope you’ve understood that my bold behaviour as we parted meant yes, right? I was too excited to talk anymore. It was really sweet and I’m grateful. You know, I’ve never… Gosh, you’re making me all flustered just when I write a letter, damn you!_

_Everything has been going fine around here. My parents are doing well. My father’s all healed up. I heard something big would happen soon from the few soldiers here. I hope you’re taking good care of yourself. Try to dress with warmer clothes. Winter’s coming after all._

_Take care, King_

_xxx_

_Amelia Corsaire_

“So you asked her to let you court her? But I thought…!”

“Who taught you the meaning of the word privacy?!”

“What was her bold behaviour? Is that… Are those kisses she’s sending you?” Grumman smirked, snatching the letter from Bradley’s hands. “You learn faster than you let on, schoolboy.”

“I swear Eli Grumman, I’m gonna kill you!”

“You know that if something terrible happens to me, you’ll be court-martialed for those words!” The older man joked around.

“I’ll show you something terrible!”

Bradley threw the blond man to the floor a second later, enraged and Grumman realized that he might have crossed the line. But it was too late to save his face from King’s fists.

“Come on, I was just…”

The first punch connected with his jaw and the violence of it almost got his neck to snap about.

“Sergeant! This is no way to treat a superior officer!” Juliett interfered.

Bradley looked up at her, his green eye shining with fury. He knew he was overreacting. But it was stronger than him.

“I’m sick of being made fun of because I’m the youngest around. By the two of you. This is no joke, I’m serious,” he added, pushing Grumman down before to get up, leaving him with his bruised jaw.

“Oh Brad, you really like that girl, don’t you?”

He had no idea how to reply. He felt trapped. Amelia was happy but he didn’t know where this was heading. He’d wished he could just worry about the way he was interacting with her. Not that she could die because he was interested in her.

“I don’t write to just anyone.” He retorted. “And I’d rather read her replies in peace.”

“I got that. I’ll make sure to warn Kimblee too.” Grumman retorted, stroking his face.

Juliett raised her eyes to the ceiling.

“I wish there was at least one girl here to support me. I’ll get crazy with you lot…” she sighed.

..

_Dear Amelia,_

_I’m glad to know you’re doing well. The weather’s ok. We’ve switched to our winter’s uniforms. I can’t wait to welcome you back to Central. Don’t get too worked up, though. I’m really busy with work and we could be mobilized to Drachma. There’s been a lot of frictions lately._

_Juliett introduced her husband to us the other day. He looked really infatuated in her and Grumman was so jealous I had to hold him back. He’s usually flirting with Juliett all the time, it’s the way their friendship works. Kimblee has been acting strange lately. He’s nervous and grumpy, grumpier than me that is. I can’t believe I’m writing this. I might be out on the front in one or two weeks. We’re training a lot. I hope I’ll get your letter out there without too much delay._

_By the way… I’m glad you accepted my courtship. You caught me off guard, as always. Try to worry about yourself instead of me, missCorsaire._

_Take care,_

_King Bradley_

_Dear Brad,_

_I was so eager to read your letter, I was almost shocked to see you were barely acknowledging my feelings. But then I reached the end and I realized.. You’re a man of a few words and you must hate getting emotional. It’s already a lot that you write back. Drachma is a cold country. I don’t want you to get hurt. But I guess I should follow your advice and worry about myself. You should tell me more about your squad. Juliett sounds really nice. Have you heard about Grumman’s daughter? And why don’t you tell me more about yourself, huh?_

_Where did you grow up? Why did you join the army? How old are you? I don’t even know this things. I know you love meat and stew and that you dress yourself in dark colors. There doesn’t seem to be any food that you dislike. I don’t know why I’m asking all this only now. When I talk about you to other people, they ask stuff and sometimes, I’m at a lost. I hope you’re not annoyed by my questions. I just think that those letters should help us in getting to know each other better. I won’t be back in Central before a month or so. My parents needs me in their shop for now. We’ll stay in touch. Make sure to always let me know where I can reach you._

_Take care, King_

_Xxx_

_Amelia Corsaire_

A week later…

_Dear Amelia,_

_We’re currently in the train heading towards Drachma. I added my future address of the envelop holding this letter. We’ll be working on defending the construction site of Fort Briggs, which should be our northern line of defense. Grumman is already complaining about the cold. Juliett is eager to see all the snow and Kimblee is messing around in his notes and paperwork. I was told I could us my swords more than guns on this battlefield._

_You asked about me, so I guess you should know I’m more of a swordsman soldier. I have six blades and I’ve trained and fenced since I was a mere kid. I grew up in some kind of orphanage. I was really sheltered in that place. I don’t really like thinking about it. We barely ever went outside, the other kids weren’t friendly. We were always competing to be on top and have privileges. Don’t go worrying about it, though, I wasn’t sad. I never knew anything else. It was already like the army, so I joined. I’m a lot more ambitious than I may look. I’m aiming to become Fuhrer to change the way our country is working. I’m about 22 or 23 years old, I guess. I don’t have a birthday, I was abandoned really early. But don’t go pitying me on this. You were asking about where I grew up, so… I must admit I’m kinda scared to write this all down. What if someone else was reading this?_

_I’m not paranoiac, but… I jeep on thinking that I have to be careful. Anyway, I want to hear from you, so I’ll send this letter the way it is. You asked about food… I’m not difficult. I’ve known hunger more than once, so… If I could choose, I would never eat porridge. It doesn’t taste anything. But otherwise, well. Food is nurturing, so I’d take just whatever is on the plate. And what about you, Amelia? You seem like a really quiet woman. You do have friends, right? You must be talking with them about me. It puts me a little on edge… I don’t   sorry, the ride is getting bumpy. We’re closer to Drachma. We’ll catch up later._

_Take care,_

_King Bradley_

Two week later…

_Brad, you got me really worried!_

_You had mentioned something like a military school, but this orphanage sounds worse than the army. I'm glad you’re honest, but I almost felt guilty for asking the question. Of course you’ve been sheltered! Oh Brad, I wish I could see you right now. I don’t think you’d tell me so much if we were face to face. I miss your voice. I miss your smiles. Do you still smile? How’s Drachma? Are the soldiers in place giving your team a warm welcome? Is it cold out there?_

_I was a childish girl, growing up in my old village, back here, far from every major Amestris’ cities. There weren’t many kids my age, but I had fun every day, playing with my dog or running through the fields. I was mischievous and curious. Now, I’m quieter, but you know me, I’m still curious. My favorite food, well, it’s to share a meal with someone dear to me. It makes everything taste a lot better. Everything is going fine around here. I talk about you to my mother and the girl next door. They’d both like to meet you. I’ve told them just how adorable you are. I really miss you…_

_Take good care of yourself, Brad_

_xxx_

_Amelia Corsaire_

Two weeks later came the reply:

_I was blushing so much as I was reading your letter, even Juliett teased me! It’s hard to have any time alone now. We’re always on our toes. My sword is lying on the desk, the blade naked, ready to slash through anything. My sleep has never be that light before. We’re constantly fighting back. I might interrupt this letter at any point, so I’m in a hurry to tell you all I have on my mind. You don’t have to worry about my past. It taught me what was fair and human and what wasn’t. It also trained my patience. And I’m impatient, believe me. It’s funny how you didn’t got impressed by the fact I want to become Fuhrer. I’m really serious about this, you know. Guess I’m always serious._

_Anyway, I’m having a hard time trying to picture you as a young girl. I can see you running around fields, but when I remember Grumman’s daughter, I have some doubts that you could ever be that noisy. You’re always composed. Just thinking about you helps me calming down._

_I really miss you. I don’t know what kind of lie you told your mother and friend about me, but I’m not adorable. Certainly not. I’m kind of glad you can’t see me right now. I’m cutting down people on a daily basis. It’s safer than guns, because blade cannot jam, but… I don’t think you want to read about that. Kimblee got wounded the other day. Grumman took over his rank and post for the time being. We’ll stay here for a few months. I’ve had enough already._

_I get the impression this letter will only get you down when your own words really brighten my days._

_Please take good care of yourself,_

_Brad_

One week later:

_Dear King, dear Brad,_

_You didn’t get me down, you just made me worry a little over you. You’re trying to sound detached from it all, but you have a lot on your mind. You can tell me anything, I won’t judge you. You have a goal to be out there. Becoming Fuhrer, that’s certainly what I’d called ambition. I wonder what you want to change about this country. You’re in for a lot of work. I hope I can help you along the way. It’s really nice to know that I can calm you down. You’re always on edge and so nervous. Of course, you’re serious, but still manage to joke around every now and then._

_I’d like to see you, whatever’s state you’re in. I could hold you in my arms, at least. You seem to need more than one hug, King. We’ll have a lot of catching up to do when we’ll both be back in Central. I miss you too. Try not to let everything else get you down._

_Love, Amelia Corsaire_

A whole month later, she got his reply, which she didn’t hope for anymore… The paper inside the envelope was covered with cracks and mounds as if it had been turned into a ball of paper and then smoothed back into a sheet.

_To my dear Amelia,_

_I don’t know where to start. It’s the nth time I’m writing this letter. I’ve been over it a thousand times, when I couldn’t fall asleep at night. I barely ever sleep, but don’t worry, I’m made tough. I heal fast, I haven’t been hurt once since I arrived here. It’s been over… 3 months since I’ve last seen you._

_I miss you, I miss you, I miss you so much I want to write it over and over, but it doesn’t change the way I feel. It almost hurt. I’m starting to think I’m getting weaker and that I must be stupid. Just one word, Amelia, one word and I was on my knees. It’s not easy to write this, you know. I’ve never… wrote anything over myself, except maybe my medical conditions considering one test or another. Nobody has ever talked to me like this, cared for me in such a way. I feel blessed, overwhelmed and even… scared. Where did that come from? You said love out of pity or something, right? I don’t want you to care out of pity, you know. I don’t know why I’m saying this. I want you to care, but…_

_There never was anyone to give me another blanket when it was too cold at night. There was no friendly hand in my hair when I woke up from a nightmare, or holding me up when I took my first steps, never had I seen a real, honest smile before… And now, with one sheet of paper, you’re turning me upside down. You said I can tell you anything, but just putting your address on this makes me edgy. I’d better not send this letter. I don’t want you to believe I’m crazy._

_…_

_Sorry, I know you’re not used to such long letters from be, but I had to go and fight outside, so I took a little break. I don’t know if you’d still want to hold me Amelia, after reading all of this. I feel as if I’ve been a soldier my whole life. As a civilian, I’m clumsy and completely lost. Heck, I can’t even write back a decent letter, instead I complain over my sorry self. You mustn’t believe that I really regret anything. All that I’ve lived made me the man I am now. My childhood was weird, my whole upbringing was weird. I can tell now. I guess I just want to be honest with you about it. So that you know what you’re getting into. It’s as if you didn’t know me. I’m not adorable. I’m a killer, a soldier, I’m irritable, I hold grudges, and I’m too proud, even brazen. I’ve got an eyepatch and I’m grumpy. And those are just a few. So what is there to love, you tell me?_

_I’m not trying to lose you here, maybe I’m just messed up. I really miss you, I… I like you and I still want to court you when I get back in Central. Where are you now Amelia? Are you safe? I…_

_Take care, alright?_

_Brad_

 

_Brad,_

_I never meant for you to get so worked up! I almost cried over your letter, trying to picture how you were looking as you wrote it. You sounded so lonely, almost trapped, and I refused to believe I could really be the first one to care for you. What is there to love, you ask? What is there not to love?! You can be such an idiot sometimes. You’re sweet and endearing, even if you had the tactfulness of an old man the first time we met. I remember each of our encounter. How you’d act like a wild animal, always on edge, always ready to bite back. Even now, you’re defending yourself, as if my words were an attack. I don’t want you to be hurt, I’m trying to cheer you up!_

_Right now, I’m in Central, back at my aunt’s place. Tell me you’ll be back soon. I really want to see you. And by the way, I’m sending you back your question: I’m an hyperactive overtalkative annoying woman who’s too curious, I hold grudges too, I’ll have you know and I never let anyone win an argument over me. Moreover, I’m plain looking, poor, poorly educated – I’ll raise my voice if needed- and I have the taste as my grandmother. So what is there to like, now you tell me?_

_You won’t lost me that easily, so give me good news. Please be safe and try to rest and sleep a little more._

_Love, Amelia_

_Xxx_

_P.S.: I’m not pitying you, unless you give up on me. Don’t have me wait too long for a reply this time! *wink*_

_Dear, dear Amelia,_

_I’m sorry for my last letter. I was mentally exhausted. The fights are over. I shall be back in a week, so by the time you’ll be reading this, I’ll be almost there already. I can’t write much, we’re being reviewed in a moment. I guess I’ll have to give you a thorough inspection once I get back to see if you described yourself accurately. Everyone’s doing well back here in Drachma. Kimblee’s all healed up and Grumman’s made a few girlfriends in another squad. Juliett’s mad at him, cause there’s more than one of them. They really brighten my days, lately. Seems like this is all the time I have for you now._

_Be careful, see you soon._

_Yours truly, King Bradley_

Bradley was sitting in the train, looking out the window and trying not to panic at the idea he would be meeting Amelia in half an hour. He had realized at some point that sending letters was not good because he’d never keep a copy of the one he wrote. So if his memory wasn’t accurate enough, he couldn’t tell for sure if he hadn’t gone too far in his revelations. And he still couldn’t tell if the other homunculi did or did not intercepted his mail and read it through before that it was send to Amelia. All he knew was that she really was the one answering. He had kept her note from long ago and could spot her handwriting anywhere.

“Aren’t you excited, man? This is the great moment when the warriors turn back into men and are greeted by their lovely wives who are craving for affection.”

“Did someone hit you on the head, Grumman? You’re divorced!” Bradley quickly retorted, not looking away from the windows.

“That wasn’t me who said that, it was Kimblee!” Eli protested.

“Kimblee has a wife?!” Juliett almost shouted, shocked beyond words.

Kimblee simply sighed, rolling his eyes.

“What do you take me for, some kind of sociopath? You’re also married Juliett and I happen to be older than you, so of course, I have a…”

“Who the heck can put up with your creepy smiles?”

“When do you ever go home? Do you have a home?” Grumman added.

Their colonel frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Note to myself, next time, keep your smarty comments in your head, Rolf.” He said.

“Wait, colonel, seriously, how come we’ve never heard of her?”

“I don’t like to brag. My wife is a shy woman. I mentioned this so I could give you three one last order before that you’re dismissed into the civil world of Central.”

Bradley looked up, his body tensing at the idea of another order. He was sick of getting those.

“I don’t want Grumman to interfere in my reunion with her. In fact, I want him to disembark on another stop than me.”

“But my little girl will be waiting for me! My sweet Elisabeth has promised to wait for my triumphal arrival in Central. It took everything I had, and I mean money, to convince her mother to bring her here!”

“This is crazy, we’re disembarking together, as a squad, and then we’ll each go our own way. And I’ll make sure Grumman don’t interfere or bother your wife at one condition, sir.” Juliett declared.

Kimblee raised one brow.

“I want to hear all about the girl that could accept to spent the rest of her life with Rolf Kimblee. Right now.”

“You must be kidding.”

 _I want this ride to be over_ , Bradley thought.

His patience was wearing out. He didn’t care for Kimblee’s shy wife. That made no sense anyway. All he cared about was to spot Amelia on the platform and run away with her somewhere they could be alone. He had practiced how he’d talk to her many times over in his head. Some part of their meeting had turned into pure fantasies and he had thrown them out of the picture. He wasn’t going to rush things. Even if his souls, which were just a few now, sounded excited. He was weary of all the fighting, all the traveling. His beard wasn’t perfectly shaved and he felt empty inside. He was worried that Amelia could have been put down by his last letter. He had said too much in the previous one and he didn’t want to answer her new questions with words on paper. He’d say what he had to say out loud. He never thought he’d be such a nervous wreck right before it, though!

_Keep your cool. She’s been meaning to comfort you all this time, it’s going to be fine._

The train stopped and his thoughts derailed slightly. He didn’t want to be seen staring at the platform intently, scanning it all for her presence. There wasn’t that many people outside. Not every soldiers were expected. Their mission had been long. And not every soldier was getting down in this particular district of Central. They followed the few people disembarking at the station. Bradley wasn’t dragging his feet, but he ended up being the last one in the line. He was wearing his uniform, as expected from him. Juliett had changed inside the train’s cabin, into a dress that suited her pale complexion. Grumman was wearing a rich suit. Kimblee had his uniform. His gallons were shining on his shoulders. And Bradley realized that he was still a mere sergeant. Still down at the back of everything.

Lloyd Mustang ran up to Juliett, greeting her with a bear hug and a kiss that was far too demonstrative for most of the older people getting off the train. Kimblee went to meet up with a tall and pale woman, her dark dress making her look like a ghost in this chilly spring day. Grumman stood back, waiting for Bradley and they walked out of the train together.

“Is your sweet missCorsaire going to meet with you here?”

“She’s supposed to. Get looking for your daughter.”

“Papa!” Anna-Elisabeth rushed towards her father, who immediately bent down to receive her with a hug.

“She’s easy to find.”

The little girl had grown a bit. She was about 11 years old now. He gave Grumman some space, searching the place with his human eye. The sky was grey, there was fog in the air and he felt the cold reaching him through his clothes. A few umbrellas could be seen and there was a slight rain. Wrath shook his head. Such a fine day to meet Amelia outside. He didn’t even know where he could take her to.

And then he spotted her and the rain was gone from his mind. She was standing under a blue umbrella, looking around and forcing herself not to jump in place, as she tried to find him. He walked in her direction, repressing his smile and trying not to look overly happy. He wasn’t going to react like a little kid. He was composed, he was calmed and his heart was beating far too quickly for it to be healthy!

“Brad! I thought I had missed your train!”

She had finally noticed him and was reaching one hand towards him and he… dismissed her with half a smile.

“I’m sorry miss, I’m looking for a plain looking and poorly educated lady.” He said, barely eying her, but still registering the sheer surprise and doubts showing on her face.

“Wha…!? But King!”

He bend his head to the side.

“You’re not trying to pretend you’d fit that description, would you?”

How he’d manage to keep a straight face was a miracle. All this fighting had been good to keep his composure after all. Her expression was priceless. She was standing there, looking unsure and lost and ready to get angry, but also ready to jump in his arms. There was so much eagerness in her eyes. And then her smile grew, since he wasn’t walking away, just standing there, in front of her, unarmed and not wounded, and she shook her head.

“Get under this umbrella, Brad.”

He obeyed, feeling his nervousness growing exponentially as he got closer to her.

“You’re cute, ordering me around, you know.”

“I don’t think so.” She blushed. “Don’t you have anything else to say to me?”

“It’s good to see you, Amelia.”

She stared in his eyes for a long time, forced to stand on her toes so that the umbrella would be high enough to cover him. He wanted to touch her, to hold her, but he was scared. Had he the right to take such an initiative?

“I’ve missed you. And I wished you’d complete every sentence you started writing in your letters, you know.”

They stood in silence, Bradley shifting from one leg to the other. He had had many scenarios in mind. He even wrote one of them down, before to tear it down to pieces.

“I…” he sighed. “It almost felt easier to write.” He admitted.

“Aren’t you a man of action? Just act. The worst that could happen is that I’d slap you.”

But she winked at him and all his anxiousness vanished. She made it all sound so simple. He was scared of looking rash. He wrapped his arms around her, being careful not to crush her in his embrace. She tried to keep holding the umbrella, but he pushed it away, so that she would be sheltered only by him. His chin was resting on her head and he could feel her heartbeat, going just as fast as if.

“You have no idea how long it felt… Now, warn me, what could cause you to slap me in the face?”

“Test me.” She whispered, messing around with him.

He tensed a little, wondering if he could have been fooled by a fellow homunculus. He bent down a little, to smell her in. There was no way it was Envy and she was way smaller than Lust. So then, it really was her. She could flirt too.

“You know, I’ve been missing you for months. Saying stuff like that…”

She shivered in his arms and he thought he could die on the spot, with all those confusing feelings ready to melt away his heart. His souls were just as confused as him. How dare she be that cute?

“Are you cold?”

“No…”

He gently pushed her back, so that their eyes could meet.

“Are you nervous, Amelia? You’re avoiding my eyes.”

“I asked you a question in my last letter and you never answered it.”

His throat tightened. That had been on his mind the whole time. And now it was the time. To say with his own voice what he couldn’t write down on paper. But it felt as if there were too many people around. They were still on the freaking platform, the rain was damping their hair. He took in a deep breath.

“I wanted to answer it out loud. There’s nothing not to like about you, except maybe your aunt.”

“Brad!” she protested, fighting against her own blush.

“No slap in the face, even for that?”

She shook her head, smiling through the chilly rain. She felt so small. So small in his arms. Could happiness be that fragile? If she fell ill or something. If anything were to go wrong. If his so-called family was to decide that this was wrong, that it didn’t follow their plan. He needed her so much, it was almost painful.

“How far are the limits, huh?”

He needed to know.

“You think it’s a game?”

Her smile was more than he could take. So he pulled her back into his arms, but not as close as the first time. His bare hand slipped behind her neck, gently pulling her face towards his. He was almost shaking from hesitation, but he controlled it, as he controlled everything else in his life. No more hesitation. He had had only a few seconds of her lips last time. She had to make amend for that. She was still smiling as he kissed her, and soon dared to grab his head in her hands, playing with his hair as she realized he wouldn’t release her anytime soon. They both felt clumsy, but they weren’t rash, rather gentle, trying to learn together. She tasted like tea and sugar while he tasted like chocolate. It was only when Grumman whistled at them that Wrath reluctantly let go of his girlfriend.

“You didn’t mention a sweet tooth in your letters.”

“Let’s get you somewhere dry and warm before you get ill…” he retorted.

“Don’t ignore me,” she warned him.

He gave her another kiss, feeling a lot bolder now that a new bridge had been crossedbetween them.

“So that would earn me a slap?”

“You know, I’m beginning to think you want one…”

He rolled his eyes.

“Where’s that blue umbrella you had?” he wondered, looking around.

“You don’t need to get any luggage?”

“I always travel lightly.”

They exchanged a smile.

“Ok then. You may escort me back home to my dreadful aunt. She’s gonna be so thrilled to see you.”

“I doubt it.”

But he wasn’t close to any sort of anger. Bradley was off on cloud nine. With rain. And Amelia.

To be continued…


	11. The way of being proper... or improper?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King tries to be less defensive but to stay respectful. Which is hard around that darn woman!

I chose you – Chapter 11

Bradley wasn’t entirely comfortable around Amelia’s aunt, but it wasn’t that bad either. Diner and the whole afternoon went by so fast, between talking and laughing and helping around the hotel. Bradley was still wearing his uniform and was thinking of getting back to his squad quarters, since he’d wished to have a little time alone with Amelia and it didn’t seem likely that he could have some, when the young woman surprised him once more.

“You’re staying for supper too, Brad. I’m not letting you go back to the army so fast. You’re supposed to be on break!”

Her aunt suggested to lend him some civilian clothes if he was staying longer and wanted to feel more comfortable. Wrath reluctantly accepted to be led around by the two women for the rest of the evening and found himself eating more than his fill from a table that looked like a banquet. There was steak, chicken stew, meat bread and a lot of different salads.

“I hope you didn’t go through the trouble of cooking all this just for me…” he humbly remarked after his third serving.

“I think it would have been worth it, but don’t worry. My aunt is expecting a special guest later tonight, so half of it is for him. It’s a guy for an important family line, a mister Armstrong if I recall it right. He wants to invest in the hotel.”

“I see…”

Bradley let a small hint of jealousy hinder his tone, just to see how Amelia would take it and her smile was definitely worth it.

“You’re a great comedian Brad, you really are.” She added a minute later, winking at him.

It was her forte after all to pretend grandiloquently, he was just following her lead on that way.

“It’s part of being a good politician I guess, so I’ll have to be more than great eventually.”

“Don’t get all serious on me now, I want you to relax.”

She sounded a little too maternal and he had to remind her where they stood. He was aiming to court her after all, not to be spoiled by her.

“I don’t need to be pampered Amelia, I’m a grown man.”

She looked distant for an instant, as if that reminded her of something her passed brother could have said once. But as quickly as it came, her eyes were back on him, lit up by that inner light that he never wanted to fade. There was more strength in that small human woman than in most soldiers he’d met during the few campaigns he fought.

“You don’t get the meaning of that word, huh. Relax.”

He sighed, but accepted to at least try. About an hour later, the special guest arrived, Mister Armstrong , and Bradley followed Amelia up the stairs to give her aunt the negotiation’s space she needed.

“It’s running late, I’d better go back,” he observed a little awkwardly. He didn’t want to go back, to be frank, but it certainly was the proper thing to do.

“Stay a bit more, okay? There’s one or two things I wanted to get done,” Amelia retorted, grabbing a hold of his hand and dragging him along the corridor until they reached her room’s door.

“I wouldn’t mind staying, but people will talk if I enter your room.”

“I don’t care about what people could say. Why don’t you trust me a little?”

He trusted her, so he followed her into her bedroom, chastising his souls from their many suggestions of what his next move should be. A true courtship had to take some time. Moreover, he needed time to prepare himself mentally for anything more intimate than kissing. Though he wouldn’t mind having one or two more kisses. Heck, as he remembered holding her in his arms at the train’s station, he knew he would never have enough of her kisses.

She gently closed the door behind him and told him to sit back on the edge of her bed.

“I really wanted to have a chance to be alone with you… I felt as if my aunt has been checking on us ever since we came in here.”

He could only agree with her on that. She sat next to him with a sigh as he looked around her room, which was tidy and small. The bed was made for one person, no more, there was a cute desk in one corner, really feminine and neatly kept. Books were lining up on a lonely shelf and a single wardrobe was all she had to stock her things. There was a window on the opposing wall, showing the night sky and the falling rain. There was no storm but it seemed as if the rain would never stop.

“I know it’s pretty small, but at least, we can be alone here. You’re feeling tired right? The train’s ride must have been long. I never sleep well in trains.”

He smiled, turning his attention back to her.

“I’m not that tired. The ride was long, obviously, but it was worth it. With you waiting for me right on my arrival.”

She blushed despite all her efforts not to.

“You’re really serious about me, huh?”

“I’m serious about everything. I’m trying to relax, but it’s not as easy as you may think.”

“You’re too hard on yourself.”

“I don’t know any other way to do things.” He admitted. “And I think it’s okay to be serious about courting you, don’t you, Amelia?”

She nodded.

“I just don’t want you to feel as if you have to keep your back all straight and remain rigid around me. Courting is official and important and I’m flattered, but most of all, I want you to be yourself.”

He sneered at that. He still wasn’t sure who that could be. He once was human, now he was a homunculus. Number 12. A mere number. Was he developing some kind of inferiority complex?

“I’m serious too you know.”

“Of course, I wasn’t sneering at you, I just… I don’t know if being myself is going to be enough to fit with my standards.”

“Oh Brad, don’t push yourself, just listen to me!” she said, gently slapping his shoulder.

He smiled at her, hoping to lighten her mood. It was strange to see her that serious. They shared a long gaze, filled with questions and needs that couldn’t be asked at this moment in time. But he understood that mostly, she wanted him to rely on her. Because it was all she could do. He wondered if there were limits or if they were just supposed to talk. He bend a little toward her, just to see how she’d react. She reached one hand out, to brush her fingers against his jaw, gently, And her smile got so soft that he felt his heart melting. Before that he could grab her hand in his and kiss her fingertips as he intended to, she suddenly got up and out of his reach.

“Why don’t you lie down for a bit, Brad?”

“I can’t sleep here. That would be really improper.” He opposed.

“I’m not talking about staying the night. Just lie down, okay? There’s something I’ve been meaning to do since I received your last letter.”

Gulping nervously, he didn’t move from an inch, staring at her curiously.

“Just do as I say, I’m not thinking of anything improper.”

He obeyed and lied down on her bed, though he was a little tense. She was rummaging in her wardrobe.

“Close your eyes and just relax, okay, Brad?”

He obeyed again, though it was hard since he was expecting a dozen of different scenarios to take place and his souls weren’t helping him in being patient. She sounded mischievous and serious at the same time. A minute went by and just as he was about to re-open his human eye, he felt something warm covering him. He sat up, realizing she had put a blanket over him.

Amelia sat next to him, shaking her head.

“You can’t stay still for more than a minute, can’t you? The nights are still cold. So here, I’ll give you another blanket.”

For some reason, he thought he knew where she was going with that action. He remembered writing something about it in his letters. She reached her right hand toward his head, getting on her knees to be able to ruffle his dark hair. And that also was… His mouth hanged open at the realization.

“And now, at least one person has ruffled your hair.”

Was she pitying him? She was smiling and he felt both vulnerable and grateful. It felt good, her hand playing with his locks. He wanted to lean in, but that would have been improper too, wouldn’t it?

“Amelia…”

His voice sounded warmer than usual. His heart was quivering in his chest. Being cared for. Was that it? Not like a perspective Führer, but like a human being. He didn’t know what to do anymore. All that felt right was to hug her. But now she was touching his face and it felt incredible. To be this close when he had wanted it for so long. To feel longing and that he was at the right place, right now.

“You look sad Brad. I’m just trying to help. I don’t want you to have nightmares, I don’t want you to doubt yourself. If there’s anything you’ve missed before…!”

“I missed you, Amelia, nothing else!” he managed to say as he draw her into a tight hug. He felt close to trembling.

He was angry for not ever getting such attentions before. Angry for letting her in on some of his weaknesses. Angry for wanting to be cuddled like a child. Angry because he would have to leave eventually. Angry because she made him feel human when he wasn’t. Angry because she was so sweet, so sweet that he had no right to bring her any trouble. And over all he felt a burst of relief, because she was welcoming him, without questions about his weird upbringing, because that was the one thing he couldn’t lie about. He didn’t know what a normal childhood sounded like. He didn’t want to know either, so that he wouldn’t regret anything. Regrets were below him.

As he held her, her hands gripped on his shirt, with a strength he didn’t know of her.

"I missed you too, you know."

"When did you turn like that? I left with a mere kiss and now..."

She felt almost clingy. As if she had been scared, all this time, when she was cheering him up in his letter and trying to sound happy. Was it fake? Amelia couldn't be fake, even if it was to comfort him. He wouldn't have that! And despite his initial anger, he was flattered, almost impressed, but also scared. Things were moving on too fast.

"I don't want to rush anything. But I have the feeling I know you so much more than before you left... And you could have never come back."

He felt his throat tightening. He was forcing her to relive some of her worst fears.

"I'm not your brother, Amelia."

"I know. I've never held him like this either." she added with a held back giggle.

He slightly let go of her, to look her right in the eyes, holding her upper arms in his large hands.

"I know. And I can't die before to reach my goal."

Her smile turned sweet and his souls melted at the sight. She was too good to be true. Too good for him.

"Becoming Fuhrer, right? You never told me what you intended to do when you'd be Fuhrer. It's no small goal."

His throat felt tight at that. That was his cue to lie. Again. He looked up, away from her, as if in deep thoughts. And he was.

"I know. But if I do it, then I can ensure this country's whole protection. I can make the frontiers safer. I can even expand our territory to make sure there's enough resources for everyone. And when it's all done, less wars. Expand the state alchemist's research's programs, so that we have cures for illness, so it would be easier to rebuild the towns hit by the previous war."

Her mouth hanged open, in surprise and amazement.

"But why... Brad, why would you need to do all that? It'd took more than one life to reach even one of your goals!"

"I'll do it. I can't trust the higher ups."

"So you'll turn in one of them? You'll corrupt yourself?"

He shook his head, shocked by her reaction, by her hands still gripping on his shirt. Pinching his lips, he pushed her back, letting go of her shoulders. They were sitting across each other on her bed, their knees brushing as he tried to ease her fear:

"I'll stay myself. I'll reform the way things work. I'll get on top to make sure... I can't protect anyone as it is, Amelia. Only myself and my closest comrades. I need more strength, more influence if I want to protect everyone."

His voice was wavering. She couldn't deny this to him. He was lying, alright, but becoming Fuhrer was his only goal in life before her. If it wasn't for that, he wouldn't be alive now.

"But why do _you_ have to protect everyone?!"

And she nailed it so well, it hurt. He blinked, fighting against the anger he felt toward the homonculi and the soldiers that had trained him, raised him solely for this, toward her for asking.

"I... I don't expect others to have the same goals as me. I don't expect anyone to have the drive and the patience and the will to do this. If I want it done right, I have to do it myself. I've been fighting my whole life, Amelia, just to... to have what it takes to fit in. I'm an orphan. A nobody. The people raising me called every kid with a number. I was 12. And that was all there was to me. A number in the list. My name was chosen by a stranger when I got out of there and I hate it."

This time, he felt bad, especially as the pain and grief showed on her face.

"How could anyone... What kind of orphanage where you in, Brad?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself, as if she was suddenly cold.

He sighed. Maybe being half honest about all of this was just going to drive her away. But he was already in too deep, there was no walking back. So he went on, his voice hesitating a little each time she looked a little more devastated:

"The worse in Amestris, I guess. You have to understand, kids without parents are a nuisance in a military state as ours. We cost money that could be invested somewhere else. No one wants to adopt someone without papers. I don't think I was ever submitted for adoption anyway. We were a waste of resources, so we had to prove useful. I was a fast learner and I trained hard, to fend above all else. I don't want you to pity me over this, I just say all this so that you understand. Now all that I aim for is to change this government so that it would accept refugees and orphans. I want everybody's chances to be fair. And to have that, I need to be on top of it all."

"It can't be right. I don't mean to say that you're lying, Brad, but... How can..? Was it an orphanage or a military school, or both?"

She sounded horrified.

"I'm not trying to complain and I'm not trying to gain your sympathy. I'm not that pathetic, you know. I'm just... angry about it."

He rested forehead in one of his hands, breathing hard and feeling pitiful now that he realized all he'd said. She was bound to be scared now. She was bound to reject him.

"Brad..."

"I don't want to dwell on my past or for you to feel sorry for me. I don't want to burden you with this goal of mine. I want to see you smile. I don't want fake smiles."

Her smile at that was so sad, it made him angrier still, but he accepted it nonetheless.

"You've been through so much. And you're ready for more. No wonder you're so restless and reckless."

He chuckled at that, but her eyes were still distant and he was worried.

"Are you scared of me, Amelia?"

She crossed her legs, keeping her skirt in place with her hands in front of her, looking at him with her head leaned to the right and then to the left. She grabbed one of his hand, a frail but brighter smile on her lips.

"Scared of what? Eye patch?"

She followed the black fabric around his ouroborous-tattooed eye with a finger before to add:

"It's a scar because you've been hurt. And your goal?"

Her hand drifted to the place on his chest beneath which his heart was beating and his breath caught caught in his throat. He felt so vulnerable. Had he been too honest?

"Another scar that you're trying to heal all by yourself. I can't be scared by scars. The fact you were called by a number before to have your name doesn't change who you are. It's just..."

Her voice whimpered at that and he looked away, hurt to see her so hurt about it. But he was touched too. She was so understanding.

"...another wound, healing too. But I'm not being fair with you here. I've never meant to add sorrow on your mind. You too have wounds that need healing, and scars."

"What?"

"You're too good to people. Too understanding. You barely ever ask anything for yourself, when all I do is taking and refusing to trust anyone."

He gazed down at her hand, still holding his own hand, caressing her fingers with his thumb, wondering how he could set things right. A single trembling of her hand hinted that he was right and she removed her arm, bringing it close to her chest, as if to protect it.

"If I said something wrong..."

"No!" she cut him off, looking back up at him. "I mean, no, it's fine... It's just... I realized I could be getting you down when I was trying to cheer you up." she said, biting her lower lip nervously.

"I got you down already. You're so quiet."

He wanted to apologize, but it was hard on his pride. She let out a heavy sigh, trying to relax herself a bit.

"I just wish I'd known it all along. So that I wouldn't ask and confront you with... all the pain you're keeping at bay."

"I'm made tough, don't you remember?"

She blushed before his smile and turned around, before to scoot herself closer to him, until their arms were brushing and they both had their back against the wall. She leaned her head over his shoulder, covering one of his hand with her small fingers.

"How tough?"

He looked down at her, only to feel her snuggling closer to him. He shivered. All those feelings. New feelings. He felt exposed, and small, and too tall at the same time. She was so sweet. And he had lied. His throat burned. His arm shook a little and he breathed out, hardly holding everything in. _How tough was he?_ No enough, it seemed.

"Just about enough, I guess." he replied.

"You don't have to be tough around me, Bradley. I know it's hard. You're back from a war and you're thinking about all the others that are to come. You're mad about it deep inside, maybe angrier than I am. But it's fine."

Her fingertips ran over his arm, giving him goose bumps. He had no idea it could feel good. He slowly, hesitantly, extended his right arm, so that he could wrap it around her, to have her closer. Her head in the crook of his neck felt so right. Her hands on his fore arm, holding him still, and close. He closed his eyes a long time, trying to take it in, all of it. While it lasted.

"I'm scared Amelia." he whispered to her.

"Why?"

"If I don't tough it out, I don't know what I'd do. There's so much anger inside of me. So much that I feel like I could burst at any moment. All the time. When I sleep. When I wake up."

"It's okay to be angry."

"Not like that."

"It's okay Brad. Sometimes, it's good to let it out."

He didn't want her to be right this time. It was dangerous to let anger out. He was Wrath. Pure, lethal wrath.

His shakings got worse and he cursed out loud.

"I've wanted to hold you like this for a long time. And even if you're angry, you're not pushing me back. Are you sure this is anger?"

"What else could it be?"

"Maybe you don't feel safe like this. We're close. I can hear your heartbeat. When was the last time you were that close to someone else?"

He gulped down. Was she always right?

"I... I don't know."

A sob escaped her lips and he held her closer.

"This... this is improper, right?"

"No, Brad." she laughed through her tears, tears that were for him. "It's just... It must have been so hard."

"It was fine."

"You're seriously trying to tell me you were never hugged before in your life and that it was fine?"

"Fine, I'm socially impaired. I'm shaking like crazy and I'm making you cry on top of that."

She shook her head, looking up at him, drying up her tears.

"I don't understand, when you're so human, when you're so likeable, so loveable... that other people couldn't see it."

"They didn't have your eyes. They didn't have your heart. And I did make some friends along the way." he tried to defend himself.

She stroked his face, liking the feel of his short beard under her skin.

"I'll end up doing something really improper if you keep that up."

"I don't care about proper or improper." she retorted, grabbing at his collar and pulling him down.

He could have resisted easily, but he didn't feel like it anymore. Instead, he followed the trails her tears had left on her cheeks, staring into her green eyes, touching her hair. It was wrong, his souls were telling him, this was totally skipping courtship. So he eluded her lips, kissing her forehead instead, only once, as a way of thanking her. Her hands felt cold, even through his shirt and he guessed it was because of her nervousness. He felt like a bundle of nerve.

"You're still keeping it all in, aren't you?"

"Of course I am."

Getting too close and his fantasies could take over and he had no idea if he was ready to face the consequences that could mean. She was still shaken. He wanted to comfort her, without crossing the line. And she wanted to comfort him, he could tell, but just her shy smile was enough to have his heart soaring.

Amelia surprised him by turning them both around, so that she was the one lying on top. She wasn't careful as he'd been not to lay her weight on him, instead, she sat right on his stomach, looking mischievous and playful.

"You need some of this stress out of your system, King."

"Brad," he pleaded, raising himself on one elbow and putting one hand on the small of her back, to have her leaning closer.

To hell with being proper! Their mouth linked softly, lips on lips, warming both of their heart. He felt her hair in his face and though she was dominating him from her position, he didn't felt that much more vulnerable. What he felt was more like need. Desperate need. But she was already moving away.

As she straightened herself, blushing, she was smiling.

"You're safe here, Brad."

He sat up, which made her slide down into his lap, with her legs spread around his waist and her face turned a deeper shade of red, but his arms were around her, keeping her in place.

"So are you, 'Melia."

He claimed her lips once more, this time a little more demanding, even rough and she accepted him, entirely. Almost welcoming it, since it seemed to be the only way he'd expressed his feeling. Her fingers were moving through his locks, running circles on his scalp, as he kept her close, one hand raising to the back of her neck, holding her head, his thumb behind her ear. The innocent kiss turned deeper, until her mouth give away for him and he gladly discovered her tongue and cavity, working on mere instinct. Their fight was a dance and back to a fight and Wrath soon felt a stronger need building up inside him. She moaned and he groaned in response, feeling his sanity escaping him. She tasted good. More than good. She felt so soft. He wanted to feel her closer. His hands went down to her waist, settling her more comfortably over him, looking for her skirt. Her back suddenly straightened, sending a jolt of panic inside him. This was the line.

He pulled away right then, as she tensed next to him, her eyes blinking, her breath as erratic as his. Her hands fell from his neck to his shoulders and he looked down, leaning his forehead against her shoulder for a moment.

"I'm sorry. It's... You're overwhelming."

"No, I started it, I..."

She was flushed and her lips were swollen. She covered her mouth, gulping down. She felt tensed and uncomfortable.

"It's just that this... this is starting to feel highly improper." she said.

They both laughed, but made no motion to get themselves out of this situation. Bradley was just really careful about not touching her in inappropriate place, like under her waist line.

"I know it's wrong, but I like this." he admitted.

She blinked, confused and flushing even more. He hugged her, putting his head over her shoulder and sheltering her in his arms.

"Having you this close. It really feel safe."

She mumbled something against his chest, stroking his back with her hands in appeasing motions. It almost sounded like a cat purring.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"I guess I should let go of you now..."

"Maybe you should... But I don't mind if it's just hugging."

He laughed in her hair, the brief, honest chuckle she had come to like. She was tracing patterns in his back, a gentle, calming caress. The need was gone. Not entirely, but another need was there, being discovered. Was this what being cuddled meant?

"I'd never try to hurt you, Amelia. And even though I can be rash and... maybe clumsy too... I want you to know that I really respect you."

"I know." she replied softly.

It felt as if all the hold he had on his emotions vanished. His shoulders lowered and he heaved a sigh, deeper than the ones before. Breathed her in and out and back in.

"I love you."

She smiled, he heard it in her voice as she asked him:

"Stay for the night, then."

"What?!"

He gently pushed her backward, to have some space and meet her eyes. She looked a little less flushed, but gathered her skirt to have decency once more. It had been able to see her knees for an instant and his souls were crying outrage as he laughed at them. He had seen much much worse during the war. The sick pictures ran in his head for a second, making him feel terrible. Something like that, something like rape should never happen to Amelia. Could never happen. He remembered how shaken Juliett was at the sight. Remembered how Gruman talked about murdering the animals doing those things. How Kimblee would talk about meat bag and simply walk past it as if it was nothing. Kimblee's eyes were always cold. Bradley had tried to shut back every horrors met, but it wasn't easy. He knew what was right or wrong in human standards. He had his own standards. And any invasion was wrong. He had been invaded himself, by countless souls. By a philosopher stone.

"Just to sleep. So that I wake up with you next to me."

He looked lost in his thoughts for a moment. She seemed shy as he reflected on her suggestion, as if she just realized how bold it was.

"Okay. But tonight is an exception."

She gave him a slight peck on the lips as an answer.

"You can court me all properly and righteously starting tomorrow, my good sir. Tonight, I just want to be in your arms."

"You really want your aunt to kill me."

"I'm old enough not to care about what my aunt thinks," she retorted.

They slipped under the covers, talking a little more, mostly over things they liked and disliked and the whys, to complete the getting-to-know-you they had started with their letters. Since the bed was small, they were forced close, in a spooning position. Bradley didn't mind it. Having her in his arms felt good. He was just worried about how he'd protect her in such a position if something was to happen.

What happened in the end was a nightmare. The big surprise was the fact that Amelia woke up screaming and Bradley was startled awake, almost falling off from the bed.

"What is it? Where...? Amelia?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Brad, really, I didn't mean..."

She was shaking and looked really scared, more scared than when he had told her about the fact he was raised with a number for a name.

"It seemed so real... I don't usually do nightmares..."

His smile was genuine and so caring, she felt calmer just from it, but he still gathered her in his arms, gently brushing a few strand of hair away from her face.

"What did you see?"

"It's really stupid."

"Of course not."

"I was in the cemetery where my brother is buried. There was a new grave, not far from his. Without a name. Just a..."

She paused, clearly hesitating, before to whisper:

"just a number."

"Not even a date?" he asked, hoping that would have her laughing, but she just shook her head.

"It was 12, right? It sounded so crazy, but it's stuck in my head."

He sighed, but decided not to linger on it.

"Brad sounds better, right?"

"I like King too."

"One day, you might be Mrs Bradley."

She blushed and pushed him away, laughing all the while.

"That is highly, highly improper, Mr Bradley!"

It was then the door cracked opened, before to be vigorously swung opened.

"What is the meaning of THIS? Amelia Corsaire!"

Wrath was met by Amelia's aunt's death glare, which would have petrified any living man. Fortunately, he was a homonculus man, but he felt a cold air around him, as if the whole room had turned to stone instead of him.

"Oh, this is not what you think it is. We just slept..."

"I dare you to finish that sentence Amelia! If you do, be sure that your father and your poor mother will know how degenerated your behaviour was under my roof. And you, young man!"

Bradley got up, understanding the message. The woman walked into the room, motioning him to exit the place.

"If I ever see you wandering around my precious niece...!"

Wrath gave her his best glare, which had almost killed a few soldiers on the battlefield already, but was still far from the look he'd have in a few years.

"My intentions are quite honourable, madam. I intend to court your niece, miss Corsaire, with or without your blessing. All I need is her accord."

He threw a brief glance to Amelia, who gave him half a smile. She was kinda shocked by what he'd just said.

"I'll come back in a few days. Take care of yourself."

"You too." Amelia replied while her aunt stood still, muted by the young soldier's bravado. That was a first. As soon as he was out of the room, though, the woman yells echoed through the place like a crazy glutonny's pleas for food. In fact, it was even worse. He gathered his things, shoes and all and walked away into the night. What he didn't except was the reaction of his own _family_ to this new development.

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12 - Grounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Homonculus disagree, population disagree and Bradley tries to make his point come across.

I chose you - Chapter 12 - Grounded

Bradley had barely managed to reach his squad barrack that a soldier halted him on his way.

"If you would follow me, sergeant. Father's waiting."

He understood that it was Envy and followed his lead. He didn't want to wonder what was going on. He hadn't been contacted by a single homonculus for the whole war. He guessed it meant he was supposed to be lectured or something... He hadn't received any warning though. As they got down underneath Central, he was surprised by the silence in which Father's room was kept. It was dark and he removed his eye patch, stashing it in his pocket so that he could see clearer despite the lack of light. It was always a little disconcerting to explore the world with both of his eyes after getting accustomed to a one sided vision. Being open about the ouroborous tatoo might be the only reason why he liked being down here.

"Wrath, I realized that we've forgotten a few important things. Like giving you a family." Father's observed, sitting on his throne, his chin resting in his left palm.

"I never said I needed..."

He was cut short by the blond man, who was anything but a man, Wrath was sure of it.

"Here is your mother."

The tone was aimed to be entertaining, like a big announcer in a banquet or a party. Bradley still needed to attend either to know, but he could tell that this was a special occasion. Lust took a step into the light, her dark hair replaced by white and grey locks, held in a bun on top of her head, her arms crossed underneath a wool shawl that seemed pretty out of place. He blinked once, wondering if it was supposed to be a joke.

"I'll have you know that this is a wig." Lust whispered, pointing towards her hair.

She seemed slightly annoyed.

"Suits you well."

Father looked pleased by Wrath's reaction and went on.

"Here's your father." extending his arm in the direction of Sloth, who was wearing a tie for the occasion and sighed deeply.

"Being a dad is tiring..."

"I don't see a resemblance." Bradley observed.

"We also have your uncle." Father added with a smile, pointing Glutonny, who clearly needed something to eat.

"What sort of game is this? None of them can go out in the open and..."

"You also have a brother, Wrath." Envy self-introduced him, wearing normal clothes and a sharp appearance, with black hair and aqua green eyes, just like Bradley's. "You can call me Prince, I guess."

Wrath didn't find the joke funny anymore. It wasn't a joke. It seemed to be some kind of warning. As if to remind him of his place. He wasn't free. He couldn't shake them off his heels and had to remember at all time that he was a part of their group. A part of their strategy and plan. A cog in father's machine. His life was theirs from the very first day. And it would always be.

"Your other brother ran away from home. But there's still an important member of your family that needs introduction. Your future son."

Bradley was shocked beyond words at the title for this family member. He was still too young, still stated as a single man and now this…

A small figure came from the shadows, too small to walk on her own, but then Bradley realized that it was made of shadows. A smile crept, white and ghostly, made from sharp teeth. And another smile. And another one. Wrath raised his head, unable to voice any smart reply. This was too much. Too big. His souls were scared and seemed to run to the back of his skull as he blinked. Many eyes, all looking in different directions were now opened. The living _thing_ was filling the whole room.

"Meet Pride, the first of the homonculi."

There was something mocking in Father's voice. The soldier's face had turned a paler shade of white. He looked shocked instead of surprised. Wrath itself was scared. He had to hide it, but it was too late. He hadn't understood that Pride was made out of shadows. The idea filled him with dread. That guy could be anywhere anytime. They didn't have to let Envy keep an eye on him, when this one could keep an eye on everyone in the entire country! But there had to be some limit to its power. He couldn't be the strongest among them. And then, his mind registered the fact. Father had said your future son.

"I don't need a son." King protested.

It was coming a little late, but Father gently shook his head, as if to say it was no problem.

"Not now, of course. Maybe you'll never do. But I'm still building a container for Pride so that he can play his part. And I wanted you to know that you don't have to disguise the truth into something unbelievable. We can offer you a very real family with an entire back story to your life. A few scientists are working on it. Envy had some ideas, but he gets too creative sometimes."

Bradley cringed. They knew mostly everything, if not all of what had been the few last weeks of his life. They had to be reading his letters to Amelia. And as Pride showed himself out with a mere "pleased to meet you, brother!" Wrath realized how his position wasn't desirable at all. He might have been better off as the other potential fuehrer, with his brain rotten and his mind far off and safe in oblivion, where it couldn't be driven any more insane. To live his life, trapped like this, is was no different, no better. He hated them. But Father wasn't done.

"And that woman. Miss Corsaire, was it?"

Lust nodded, removing her white wig and Envy smirked in answer. More fear but this time, the youngest homonculus was able to conceal it. He wouldn't let them hurt the woman. If it was the only thing he could decide in his life, he still would. She wasn't prepared, wasn't manipulated by them and as far as he could have some influence on it, she wouldn't fall into their clutches.

"What about her?"

"So pushy." Lust whispered.

Sloth was moving on, since the show was over, getting back to his task, but slowly, painfully slow, as was his usual. Envy followed him with a sigh and Glutonny sat down next to Lust, asking softly if he could have someone to eat.

"She's not right for your purpose. Her family has no power, almost no connection to the military."

"I already have all the connections that I need. In a few years, I'll be standing at the top of this country's military. Having her around makes me look more human."

"Does it, really?"

Bradley's eyes turned harsh and cold, but his face showed no anger, no threat. He had to keep it cool. He couldn't lose himself here. He was a puppet, but a few strings had to be a little more loose than the others to make it bearable.

"The orphan boy raising himself to the top with his honesty and patriotism, seconded by a genuine and naive country girl. Too idealistic to be feared. Too good to be true, but great enough to be believed in. They'll buy it and they'll follow me."

"The highest of the generals might need to know the truth in the future, to back us up." Father warned, though he seemed half convinced already.

Bradley was talking like him, as if he understood all the pettiness behind humans…

"They'll get what they need to hear. If the truth can turn them into our servants, it will."

"Our servants?" Father repeated.

"Yours, of course."

 _But going through me first_ , Bradley thought bitterly.

"Fine. But look around yourself before to chain your life to one small and vain woman. Once you'll be married, there will be no change. If she better serves my cause in death, she'll die. Either way, your conduct must be impeccable. We've been waiting for years, Wrath. _I_ 've been waiting for longer than any of you could begin to imagine. Nothing, not even you will disrupt my plan."

"I live to serve Father."

"Right. Don't take me for a fool, boy. Save your breath for the human higher-ups. Refine your manners, but keep straightforward when you're down here. I hate losing my time."

Except if it meant amusing himself. Father had a twisted mind.

"Then, I shall be of," Bradley whispered, taking out his eye patch to put it back on.

"I'll see you out," Lust whispered.

He could have reminded them he knew his way out, but seeing the look that went between daughter and father, there was something else he needed to learn. He let her walk with him, as she pulled a fur coat on her shoulders, hiding her tattoo with it. She waited until they were out of sight to clear her throat and warn him:

"There are many women in the world, Wrath. Many of them, and all human, with all the weakness that means. Keep it in mind. We're better than them. Their emotions could only hinder you."

"Still worried about your younger brother?" he asked with a mocking smile.

Bradley still wasn't entirely comfortable. He knew he had to prove himself to all of them. Human and homonculus. He could never fit clearly with any of them. He was a mix of both. An experiment. He might be a mistake in Lust's eyes. But he was his own man. His own homonculus. His own monster…

"Maybe." Lust said cautiously.

The sound of her stilettos on the stairs was unnerving. He focused on it, on his steps, on the way she was gracious while he moved more rigidly, more soldier-like. There was refinement in his movement, or so he thought. The way he held himself, the way he was aware of every part of his body, of every sound around him. On edge. His shoulders were tensed and as he realized it, Bradley tried to relax a little. The meeting with Father was over. He'd be back to his barrack in no time, to the closest thing he had to a normal life since he got out of the scientists' clutches. He smelled something in the air. Something rotten. There was a taste like metal in his mouth. He gulped it down. He was a little hungry. He could use some sleep. Or a good training session. No meeting with Amelia before a few days too. He needed to focus on his career. On his part in Father's plan.

"Or maybe I wish something fun happened. I enjoy seeing human's struggles. Despair, fear. Strong emotions for small creatures. They're weak. All of them. You know how easy they break."

They walked out into the open air, filled with rain and dark clouds. Bradley's tattooed eye ached in its socket.

"I know. Get to the point."

"She'll break too. She can't be your strength or whatever sweet thing the human parts of your brain wants her to be."

"There's no delimited parts in my being that are entirely human or homonculus, Lust. I'm both, in every way. I don't need someone else to be strong or to hold me together. I'm supposed to find a steady relationship and the woman is easy to bear with. Most of them talks too loudly, they chirps in your ears, giving me the urge to break their neck, they wear flashy clothes or acts like whore. Simplicity is far better than titles and ranks for me. I don't need to look every way and try my luck with any weird young girl around the army's top connections."

"Try anyway. Show some efforts. Test that girl. She'll need to be supportive, to be the perfect wife. If she know her place and is ready to keep it, than fine. But think Bradley. Even if she is a country girl now, she will have to change. She will have to support you…"

Laughter around the corner of the streets warned them of a human approach and Lust instantly wrapped her left arm under Wrath's right arm, pressing herself to him in a way that was far too invasive for his taste, putting on a genuine-looking smile and encouraging him in appearing as joyous as her.

"Really, King?" she said as Eli Grumman walked onto the scene, with Kimblee in toe.

Bradley felt his anger flaring up. Another misunderstanding and more lies to come. Great! But it was too late to run away. Both men were looking startled and glancing at him with questioning eyes.

"Lieutenant, colonel, good to see you make it back safely too." he greeted them.

There was something funny in the way his voice sounded, and he wondered if his smile was looking too fake.

"Sergeant, who is that beautiful woman holding onto your arm?" Grumman asked.

Lust cocked her head to the side, softening her smile and blinking just once, with such class it was unbearable.

"Lucy, his sister," she said.

Brad mentally winced. Half a lie, but still a lie. His souls suggested him many options but his mind was made up the moment Lust had given her answer.

"My sister-in-law," he quickly added. "She's engaged to my brother."

"I thought you were an orphan?" Kimblee stated, clearly puzzled, and not in a friendly way.

The colonel seemed so calculative some times. Wrath knew he had to be careful around him. Kimblee was like a shark, when Grumman was more of a bear.

"When did he ever mentioned his family? It's a pleasure to meet you, miss Lucy, I'm Eli Grumman, King's mentor, or well, I'd like to think so."

She let go of Bradley's arm to greet Grumman with a graceful handshake.

"The pleasure is all mine. My fiancé really wanted to know who Bradley's co-workers were like. And I know he can be shy at time, but he was adopted quite late in his life, though he's like a real brother to me. I hope he doesn't give you too much trouble."

Wrath rolled his eyes as the handshake was still going on, Eli not being quite ready to let go of Lust hand. If he knew what her nails could do, he would be miles away already.

"On the contrary," Kimblee observed. "He's quite the perfect soldier around here. I'd like to see my lieutenant be as irreprochable. Let go of her hand, Grumman, you desperate man!"

Lust simply laughed it off and Bradley excused themselves by saying he had to send her back to his brother before that he got worried. As soon as they were out of sight, he whispered warningly to her:

"I hope you've had your fun, because you're not showing around here before a few months at least. I've said it already, I don't need a family for…"

"It will make you more human, little brother. And right now, this is what you need. To appear as human as you can. And it's fun to feed them with lie, they're so gullible. I hope you brother is as dashing as you."

Lust was clearly joking around and she had made a little concession by adding that he had been adopted when he was almost already all grown-up, which would explain his usual awkwardness. She winked at him, not warningly for once, but mockingly nonetheless. She knew he was annoyed.

"Be careful with that Kimblee. He looks instable."

"You mean like Envy."

"Precisely. It's gotta be worse since he's human. See you around, King!"

She walked away just like that, with the sun going up in the sky. The air was chilly, and Bradley's heart was heavy with worries, but his mind was set on a few things. Father wanted him to try courting a few perspective wives with the perfect pedigree before settling down. Lust was suggesting that he tested Amelia before to engage himself. His souls were warning him that he could lose her in the process. And as he finally got back to his desk, wandering if he could catch a few hour of sleep, gold tooth showed up, asking him down the basement for a few exams. Swearing under his breath, Wrath could have sworn his life couldn't get any worse.

…

_Dear Amelia,_

_I won't be able to see you before a while and we're going to be quite busy with paperwork, not to mention the latest problems around Central's streets. Be careful and please refrain from going out at night. I doubt it can be safe right now. In fact, I'd ask you to stay in and to be careful with the clients you accept. The war was win by Amestris, but too many people died. A movement is growing, about a potential switch to democracy. I'm sure you'd be agreed with his ideals, but their methods are quite different. Please take care. I'll check on you as soon as I can. Just… don't write back. Being connected to the military won't be safe in a few days, I bet it. Stay out of trouble._

_Love,_

_King Bradley_

…

"Flowers?"

"They're the perfect gift for a first date," Grumman insisted. "And if her aunt is angry at you, it will make a double good impression."

Juliett walked in with a sigh. Both men were sitting together at the bar, having a beer after a quite long day of paperwork. All the war reports were done and the city needed some new rules. A group of teenagers were running wild in Central. They were starting a new operation to make sure the citizens were safe and that the little rascals would be found before they stole any more stuff or destroy Central's property. It had started a week ago, as a celebration for the return of the soldiers and had turned into a full rebellion act. Kimblee thought the kids needed to be forcefully enrolled to learn the sense of the word "discipline" when Juliett was ready to bet a good spanking would put them back into their place.

Bradley was trying to understand why human kids would suddenly run amok. The celebrations had been wonderful, with alchemic fireworks in the sky, one military parade and… quiet funerals held in the back for the lost soldiers. There had been hundreds of them. Some of them were fathers or mothers and Grumman had suggested the kids were asking why the war had taken their parents by acting like petty thief and doing vandalism around Central. But they were working against the army. Destroying military's property. They stole guns, ammunitions and alchemistry's ingredients. The population hadn't always been quiet, but the country was small and hard to defend, hence the multiple wars and military states. Nobody knew like Bradley did that it was all part of a plot.

"There was a bombing in a factory in the south district" she said as she dragged a chair between both men. "They're getting rasher and rasher."

"They're not helping their cause. If people start getting hurt, they could be court-martialled as terrorists in their own country." Grumman said, his face falling down a little.

Romantic talks were over and the job was right back on their shoulders. It had been more than a month since Bradley had seen Amelia and just as long as Eli hadn't hit it off with some cute lady. They were both getting wary from the politics warfare.

"Maybe are they really terrorists… You know, disguising themselves as amestrian," the dark haired man whispered.

"I sure hope not. And anyway, where would they be from? Drachma was so heavily touched by the last fights…" Juliett objected.

Grumman ran a tired hand through his blond hair before to call for another bottle of beer for their sister in arms.

"I don't care where they're from. Burning down houses and stealing from local stores isn't going to bring their parents back, or removing the army from where it is. They don't discuss, they just leave everything destroyed behind them. This has been going on long enough if you want to know what I think."

"The Fuehrer will send us out soon if we can't stop them without the use of weapon."

"They are using alchemy and homemade bombs, Grumman, they're getting bolder and bolder!"

"King, please, lower your voice," Juliett warned him. "Parts of Central remains untouched and unknowing."

He winced at that and raised his beer.

"Bless the unknowing. We fight for them, to keep them blissfully ignorant." he said without thinking.

"Wish I was one of them," Grumman added, seconding his toast.

Juliett shook her head but raised her glass nonetheless and they went on, drinking to forget the teens running wild on the streets and the army that still refused to interfere directly. The humans were worried about a greater rebellion and civil war. Wrath knew Father wished for it. All he wished for was to walk around the corner of the street and check on Amelia, but her aunt had visited his barrack and asked Kimblee to prevent him from coming to her home. Such demands were rarely made, but Kimblee ascertained that Bradley could throw shame on his squad if he acted too rashly and had ordered him to respect a curfew unless he went out with other soldiers. The only exception was about meeting the selected wives from Gold tooth's file. None of his comrades knew about it. But the meetings were taking place, in small cafes or military offices. A ball was supposed to happen in a few months. And he loathed it.

"Why are you so angry at them, Brad? Aren't you just missing your Amelia Corsaire?" Juliett asked, nudging him in the shoulder

He groaned, looking down to his beer.

"You know what her aunt did and what Kimblee did, don't you? He can't visit or even write to her. We were talking about a potential meeting. He's been meaning to court her."

"Eli, stop yapping, this is all boring." Bradley warned him.

It was worse to hear someone else say it.

"This curfew order is ridiculous! Amelia is old enough to know what's good for her and a little courtship isn't wrong, her aunt must be mad!"

As she tried to punch him in the shoulder and missed her shot, almost falling dow, it was clear that Juliett was a little drunk. Bradley knew he had to stop drinking himself soon or he would lose control and that was out of question.

"Let's say my trustiness was a little compromised the last time I met with the woman. She is crazy, of course, but I have to keep a low profile anyway. With everything that's going on, we can't even walk out if we're not in civvies or we're getting attacked by those kids. If I went to see her, I could only bring her trouble."

"You gotta fight for her, Brad, stop mopping and man up. If there's trouble, you'll face it. You know you can face anything, don't you?"

He smiled at Juliett's words.

"We need to take you back to your house, Jul, you're not thinking right."

"I'm thinking… perfectly right!" she objected as Grumman seemed ready to help her standing up. "And don't try anything funny, Eli, I know what you're on about!"

He turned crimson, ashamed that she had such a small opinion of him.

"I assure you my intentions were pure, Juliett. You need to get back to your house and I doubt you can walk on your own."

"I can hold down my liquor, Eli Grumman. Even better than you do!"

"Is this a challenge?!"

"I think the three of us had enough for tonight. Why don't we escort you back, Juliett, for your own safety? I don't want your husband to ask Kimblee to order me more restrictions."

She seemed softened at the mention of her husband and agreed. It was a quest to pay the barman, since both men wanted to pay for their trio and Grumman ended up paying, since Juliett insisted that it was the only gift she could accept from him. He was already quite wealthy and Bradley still had to be promoted to see a salary raise anytime soon.

They weren't wearing their uniform, but even half drunk, they were clearly soldiers. As they walked out into the night, they were noticed. Bradley felt the same feeling from when he was out on the battlefield. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself. The cold air sobered him a little. Grumman asked him to drive his car as he helped Juliett sit in the back seat.

Bradley disliked driving. It made it harder to concentrate on the things directly around him. Left him open to potential attack, but he trusted Grumman and Mustang. They were like a brother and a sister. The closest thing he'd ever had like friend. Or cars for the matter. Trusting a machine instead of his own body was quite revolting. But he got behind the wheel. He could guess he was less intoxicated than any of them.

"Could you keep an eye out, Eli?" he asked as he strapped himself. "I think the kids might be on to us. There should be a curfew over the whole damn city!"

"Saw something weird?"

"No. Just a feeling in my guts."

"And Brad has the most trustworthy guts in the whole army, Eli." Juliett whispered, sounding incredibly dignified, as if she was speaking an holy truth.

"You know, this sound terribly wrong." Grumman retorted, grimacing as he looked around.

Bradley turned on the engine and heard it dying down almost immediately. Than a shadow fell on his windshield.

There was a bump and he could guess people had jumped on top of the car. A fire flashed in the night and the pub they were in burst into flames. The masked teens tried to pull open the doors and banged on the car, swearing and yelling insults at them.

"Good. They got us trapped."

Wrath missed his swords. And mostly his gun.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Juliett croaked.

"Not in my car!"

"This is NOT the time!" Wrath chastised them

"You soldiers cowards! You think you know everything! This country doesn't have to be run by military heads. We don't want your wars anymore!"

 _I don't want them either. But you're asking for a fight_ , Bradley thought.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me some time, but more will be on the way throughout summer. I'm not giving up on this story!


	13. It's just a warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where things gets worse, for... well for everyone!

Chapter 13 - I chose you

Bradley was sitting in a car surrounded by young civilians that were yelling at him and Grumman and Mustang. They were also hitting the car and trying to break the windows. There wasn't much time left to do something. In the back, the pub was burning. Bradley exchanged a look with Eli.

"You two stay in the car."

"But…!"

"You're not letting Juliett out in this. Keep her safe."

Juliett was drunksick, even though she would have been the first to jump in the fray if any of the guy would have left her the chance.

"Be careful, King!"

His comrades rarely called him King. Eli thought the name was a little too flashy and didn't want Bradley to turn almighty on them.

Wrath unlocked his door and let the teenagers pull on it, but he held it back, so that it wouldn't open entirely. He was stronger than them. That had been a bargain on his side, but he needed some momentum to get out of there. Putting all his strength in his right shoulder, he pushed the door open right on the two guys who were trying to wrench the door ajar. They were knocked back and he managed to jump right out of the car and to close the door behind him, locking it in a matter of seconds. His friends were safe. For now.

"Who do you think you are?" the kids roared at him.

He shoved them back with a few punches, his single eye glaring at them threateningly. He wouldn't yell. That wouldn't be intimidating. Though he was mad. Raving mad with fury and anger. It boiled in his brain, in his blood. But he held it back. He made a wall of ice in his mind, in which all the kid were frozen, behind which the anger and his few souls were trapped.

"And do you think your petty rebellion will bear any fruits? Do you know who are in this building you put on fire? Civilians. Innocent people, just like you. Or well. Just like what you should be."

They seemed angry at him, one of them had a knife and was ready to use it, some others had gun.

Bradley raised his hand, opening his jacket to show them he was unarmed. Then he removed his eye patch, showing all of them the scar on his eyelids that were tightly shut over his tattooed eye.

"I gave an eye for you lot in the last wars. An eye and that's how you pay us back."

That seemed to freeze them in place. A little. And then they looked around, as if lost and confused. But the older of the gang rallied them quickly with his yells, warning them against the lies of a soldier.

"You could have lost that eye anywhere. And it wasn't for us. It was for your boss, you military dog!"

Spits and punches and kicks fell all around Bradley. He dodged most of it, walking through the group of teenager, towards the pub that burned, as people yelled within it, asking for help.

"Why are you trying to accomplish here, kid? Can't you hear them? The people dying right behind your back. Let me through. I'm going to rescue them. And then, when I'm done, if you still want to spit on me or try and fight me, you can."

The rebels looked shocked and shaken. Some of them had second thoughts.

"This pub is always full of soldiers! They're like soldiers themselves, the owner, the barmaids, barman, all of them. We're attacking the roots of the problem!" the group's leader observed.

It seemed to reassure his guys, but they still let Bradley through and watched him walking into the fire, right into the fire, as if it was nothing. The hot air was burning his nostrils and lungs. He closed his human eye, using the tattooed one to see through the fog and flames. A few clients had managed to escape through the back door, but two people were still stuck inside. They had been close to the center of the explosion that had caused the flame. A woman had received shards of glass in her leg and the barman was stuck under fallen planks of wood from the ceiling. The fire was hungry and running fast. Soon, it would be impossible to breath. Bradley held his breath as he tried to forget the pain in his chest and the anger that was almost pulsing within him.

Such fools those humans were. Fools for thinking they knew everything. Fools for hurting their own kind. All those weak lives. All those people. Had he been fighting for them? Had he really been fighting for them? No, he thought to himself. Amelia was the only one he fought for. And himself. He raised the fallen floor in the air, painfully away of the burns on his fingers, of the burning in his lungs. He needed fresh air. He could endure longer than human would, but he was more fragile than the other homonculi. He couldn't regenerate himself. His wounds needed to be healable.

"Drag him out." he whispered in the crying fire.

The woman helped him, pulling on the barman. She was crying and coughing and shaking and so was the barman, but they managed to crawl away from the fallen planks. Bradley let go of his charge and pulled both human up. He wouldn't be coming back. His souls were begging for freshness. His ouroborous eye was hidden behind his scarred flesh and his human eye was blinking desperately in the fog.

"It hurts." the woman yelped.

"Be strong. We're almost… " he coughed, giving up on talking.

Crossing the pub to the front door was hell on earth. Breathing was hell. Staying up was hell. Bradley felt a throbbing in his palms and fingers. He had no idea what was going on with his comrades back in the streets. The fire might run into the city. There were two things on his mind. Father would be mad he saved people and his anger was nowhere near gone.

Then, as he blinked and thought it would never end, they managed to walk out from the fire, in the fresh night. The difference in heat was so great, he felt tears in his eye. But those were there to help him see after all this fog.

He got both wounded and fragile human far from the fire, far enough so there would be no risk. Then he looked up to the rebels, who were standing there, arguing between themselves. Their leader seemed in trouble. And Bradley had some anger that needed to be let out.

"Anyone called for help? Of course not, help would come from the army and that's against your beliefs. You know people could have died in there? And what if the fire run wild and more house fall down on people's heads?"

The teenagers were speechless before him, so he shoved them around, to walk up to their leader. He grabbed the young man by his collar. He had bright blue eyes and blond hair and was in his late twenties. He grabbed Bradley's wrists, to force him to let go, but Wrath was beyond mercy.

"You blow up houses, burn down building, attack off duty soldiers. I'm a sergeant. A mere sergeant, you hear? You want my tags? My full name and my blood? I'll give you all of them. But first, you'll give me answers."

"Let go of him, you…!"

"I'm not killing anyone tonight, unlike you, rebels!" Bradley protested.

He had the intuition they could be talked out of this.

"I'm not telling you anything, dog of the military. Our cause call for a few sacrifices."

That man was a lost cause. But the other followed him.

"And how those that work? How is that different from your so called dog of the military? What's your cause about? How come you can't talk to us?"

Bradley held tighter on the man throat to make him understand he could hurt him.

There was a dozen of young people in this group, eleven of them staring at Bradley and their leader. They were scared, doubting what had been done tonight.

"We… we want to control our own country. One single man can't…"

"Aren't you the only one giving orders to those guys here? Aren't you able to think for yourselves if this is your ideal?"

He snapped at that, did something with his fingers on the nape of his captive, having learn a thing or two from Lust about human weakness. There was a knot in their neck, that if pressed adequately, could render them utterly unconscious. It wasn't supposed to work on every of them but this time it did. He let go of the leader, who fell like a rag doll.

"You killed him! You bastard!"

The few guns were raised and Bradley raised his hands, his green eye still flashing with anger and threats.

"Check on him before to shoot. He's just sleeping. Think for yourselves for once. If you want to take over the army or to change the way this country works, there are other ways. They don't need to be subtle, but they don't need to get people killed either."

It was weird how this bunch of sheep seemed ready to believe him. They lowered their guns, talking to themselves. Back in the car, Eli was staring at him, astonished. He had walked into a fire, almost killed a gang leader and he was now disarming the said gang. But this wasn't enough.

"Who are you?" One man asked.

"A simple guy, trying to make his living in the army. And who are you?"

"Revolutionaries."

"Anyone who know water alchemy and can put out this fire?"

They shook their head. Sirens cried in the night. People had been watching from the windows. One of them must have had a phone and made the phone call to the army. Firefighters were in the military too. They had a monopoly and watched over everything. But Amestris had been born on suspicions and knew nothing else.

"Well then, I guess you should all be off before that the other soldiers get here. How about coming with me to HQ? You could take over. Or talk things out with my superior officers. Getting someone to listen to your complaints and see your points. What do you think?"

There was a lot of hesitation and Bradley was starting to suspect that half of those people were here because it had sounded like fun, and not because they truly believed in their so said ideals.

"Don't you have a spine? Go home or come with me, it's a simple decision! Take real action, without hiding your face and identity in the dark of the streets."

Bradley hadn't really planned all of this. But he was born a leader and those sheep needed one. In the end, most of them agreed to walk with him. They gave up their guns and knives, which all went into Eli's car's trunk, while the indecisive ran away, carrying their fallen leader. Wrath walked among them, in the streets, gathering more and more people as they went on, and talked, and argued and agreed. He wasn't as harsh as he had been at first, but without getting lenient. He had challenged their convictions and was now trying to get them to believe the military wasn't entirely wrong. That they needed to give it a chance. To get to know military people. He grieved their lost one. Remembered fallen comrades in the names of fathers or brothers and acted more human than he had ever before, except when he met Amelia. As the full group was approaching his base, their numbers had grown to at least a hundred persons. His name was in every mind. King Bradley, the mere sergeant, who had had the balls to gather them up, as peacefully as possible.

Words over it ran all over the streets This could easily turn into a riot if not handed carefully.. The soldiers were prepared for such a large group and welcomed them with bats and guns. Bradley hadn't expected that. He was brought in front of the gathered people, like some kind of messiah. He cleared his throat, still covered with ash and dirt.

"I have men and women here who asks to talk to the leader of their country." Bradley said.

"Since it's already late in the morning, I think they could use a place to sleep in a little." Kimblee said.

The prison next to the headquarters was empty and the people of the city were forced into it, without any more talks. Girls, man, elder, they were surrounded by a least three hundred soldiers, who had been ordered there by the Fuehrer himself. Bradley tried to calm down his comrades, to warn them not to use force. Those were civilians, unarmed, unprepared for a fight. In a war, there were some warning, as the name suggested. But he was dragged away, ordered to remain silent if he wasn't going to help bringing everyone behind locks. Blood was spilled, jaws were broken, feet were stepped on and in the early morning, crying and shouting could be heard from the heart of the city. Smoke raised in the air, from the north, where the Fuehrer's house stood. Things were looking grim. And Bradley knew that for once, it was his fault.

Newspapers were flying around Central City with King on the first pages. King the soldier, who won a promotion to lieutenant by arresting at least a third of the rebels in one single night. It wasn't the publicity King had expected. Then again, Wrath wasn't sure what he was expecting.

Kimblee was laughing at the credible civilians while Juliett was mad and Grumman a little shocked. Had their comrade been foolish enough to believe the Fuhrer would accept to talk to low civilians? Politics didn't work like that. But Bradley had handled a crisis peacefully, it was undeniable. Another article made it clear that he saved two lives, if not more, by rescuing people in a raging fire. Though few red it.

"This isn't going to make you popular." Eli warned him as Brad joined the crew, his freshly won gallons shining on his shoulder.

"I didn't mean to get popular. I tried to follow the rules." he retorted.

He needed some sleep and felt angrier than last night. This whole thing was going to backfire on him. Now Central knew him. And his reputation was already terrible. Worse, Amelia was bound to read the newspaper, if her aunt didn't throw it in her face, laughing at him all the while. His souls were really not helping his case, drawing such bad scenarios in his mind.

"Well, you didn't. This turned into the biggest arrest of the century! More than a hundred civilians. They thought they would be heard!"

"I thought it could be arranged. If the Fuehrer refuse to listen to them now, civil war is unchangeable. And I don't like any side right now."

It wasn't an entire lie, but tension was bound to raise if no one act to calm down the people. It was a test. Father had warned Bradley that his actions had been too rash. He had tried to undo the problem Envy had so subtly caused in the nation. Wrath thought this was quite infuriating. Doing wars was one thing. Killing the very population he was supposed to govern. They would be his possession one day. His to govern, his to protect and his to kill. But there was no possession, no his. He didn't belong to himself in the first place. And that drove him quite angry.

"First he doesn't want us to use weapons against them, now he refuse the talks I've managed to bring right to him. I'm doing all the job to keep the whole city in peace."

"Since when do you believe in rainbows and fairies, Brad? You think talks can mend this situation?"

"If we're talking about civilized people, than yes, I think so. Where were you in strategy class?"

"I was trying to find the pieces of the fuehrer's daughter, that's what I've been doing while you were off I don't know where! They've been assaulting military's properties house. The girl was killed, crushed by her own room. Her body was lying in pieces all over the place!"

King paused, looking back at his friend, wondering if this had been the handy work of true civilians or Envy's dirty job. Eli looked gruesome and his face was the palest white Bradley had ever seen. He hardly gulped down, sick pictures of dissassembled pieces of anatomy lying around a battlefield. Walking on a fresh and bloody hand. Tripping on a lone torso without legs. He remembered. The smell of blood, its taste in the air. The anger to be helpless in front of it all when he was supposed to be so strong. And still, he couldn't control anything.

"When did that happen?" he asked.

"While you were off walking along the streets with those people, talking about peace treaty and a better world!"

"So none of the people walking with me could have done it." he quickly observed.

"The Fuehrer doesn't care! I wouldn't care either if anyone did that to my girl. She was still just a child."

Pain ringed in Grumman voice, laced with resentment and fear. Known officials could be the next ones on the list. Bradley remembered how hungry Gluttony was the other day. How he preferred to eat woman and somehow, he wondered if some pieces of the girl were missing. He shuddered, disgusted. Now the pictures were even sicker in his mind and it was hard to convince his souls to forget them.

"Why did they asked _you_ to do it?"

"I don't know, maybe because I let you run wild with those civilians when I was your superior officer yesterday."

Bradley felt a pang of guilt. Not because he liked Grumman's girl. Children were pretty annoying to him. But he could understand the longing Eli felt. The affection. How he could see his own daughter in the place of the Furher child.

"I'm sorry, Eli, really, this is getting so out of hand. I might have been… naïve to think I could solve everything, but I was acting on the spur of the moment. Why isn't the news of this attack on the fuhrer's family out? They're keeping it secret, right?"

The world "naïve" had burned his throat and tongue. To lower himself to a human level. He had been playing the role he should play later on. Maybe not subtly enough. Maybe had he ran over a few steps. But still… It had felt so right, to walk among all those people, as a shepherd followed by his herd, as a true king.

"We gotta get them out."

"You're not pulling any more stunt before a few weeks, my friend." Kimblee warned him.

He had been standing behind, watching over his subordinates for a while and Bradley had barely noticed him. His pale face looked like that of a predator, his nostrils flaring, his mouth twitching into his wicked smile. He wasn't happy to see Bradley raising through the ranks so quickly. Maybe did he see Wrath's actions as a betrayal.

"It was good for you too, wasn't it?" the young man retorted without thinking. Usually, he was most careful of his use of words and of his ton. But now his impatience was getting the better of him.

Kimblee caught him by his collar, trying to move him to no avail, but remaining as cold as he replied:

"You think this was good? The only reason why you weren't braided a traitor was thanks to the other soldiers that locked down all your little friends! And the streets are worse than before. The population is mad. Some of the people that were arrested weren't even parts of the rebels. They're journalists, cultivated youths, girls from good families, children of fallen soldiers. Usually, they would be untouchable. The left rebels will get worse."

"Not if we let them out."

Bradley knew he wasn't working for Father's wishes, but he needed to save faces. He couldn't just kill civilians just to bring more blood on another crests.

"Let me worry about that. You're still nothing but a lieutenant with a big mouth. I'll give you a free day. You can patrol the city and get killed out there for all I care."

It was clear, too clear for good taste but Bradley wasn't completely surprised.

"Fine, then."

He walked away, even if Grumman called him back. He didn't know what to think. He hadn't trusted Kimblee so far, but he was still shaken. They were all sharks. But he wouldn't be like them. This was his first promotion. He wasn't going to stop there. He wasn't going to let Kimblee's jealousy stand in his way.

…

Bradey had barely gotten out of the military perimeters and into the city when he noticed Amelia on the street. It was late in the afternoon, the newspapers had been all over Central and though they were lacking photograph, his name was on many lips. He wondered what could be going on in the young woman's mind, but she didn't look too pleased to see him.

She walked with her hands in her pockets, her long hair kept in her usual braid. It was raised on her head and he thought it was beautiful. She always looked beautiful to him, his souls warned him. He was getting attached and sentimental.

"I've been meaning to see you sooner," he greeted her, but it was the only words he would be allowed.

"How could you do this?!" she asked, her brows frowned, her voice slightly higher than usual.

Her green eyes were shooting bolts of lightning and he took a step back as she aimed a threatening index finger at him.

"What's wrong?"

"You tricked all those people! Said they could talk things out and now they're in jail!"

It was exactly what he'd feared would happen if she learned it. Then again, this was the first time he was openly acting for the army, the first time his actions were reported.

"I…"

"You lied to them! Fouled them. What was fair about that?"

"Would you…"

She poked him in the chest.

"And you got a promotion on top of it all. Is this how you're supposed to reach your goal?!"

That stung, deeper than the slight burn in his chest. There were burns on his fingers, from the fire and his hands didn't manage to catch her wrists as she kept venting her anger out on him. He had deceived her, just as he had deceived the citizen that were now locked up in cells. People were looking at them, but for once, it just added on his guilt. And shame. The last person he didn't want to deceive was her.

"How could you do this, when you said you wanted fairness for everyone?"

Not a whole lie, but another one, once again. He hardly gulped down. Still having sick pictures in his mind. Realising that people could associate her with him and that the homonculi wouldn't be the only problem.

"You shouldn't be seen with me right now," he tried to warn her.

But she shook her head, still angry at him, still not ready to listen. It felt unfair. He wanted to explain and defend himself, to remind her that he'd been through a fire, that he had been threatened and seen his friends threatened, even though they were hiding in a car. Grumman's car was at the garage, its metal deformed. If things had went on like this, all the three of them could have gotten quite hurt, or even killed.

"I don't care about…!"

"Would you listen to me a minute?!"

They were interrupted by curious bystanders.

"Is this man King Bradley, miss?"

She looked up to the man asking, who happened to be built like a giant and had shoulders that would make an Armstrong man look like a frail flower.

"I…"

She hesitated. Which meant she didn't entirely hated him, but Bradley was now worried for her own safety.

"Is he importuning you?" the gentleman insisted.

His knuckles seemed to itch for a fight and Bradley knew he would win, but not without one or two hits.

"It would be the other way around in this case. I'm just giving him a piece of my mind."

Bradley knew staying out here any longer was a mistake. He knew it. He quickly checked their options. The wall surrounding the soldiers' quarters were on their left, about eight meters tall. Too high for him while carrying someone else. Too high for him without anything to raise himself first. On their right, the tall man. In his back, a crowd, in the front, another crowd gathering. People whispering to each other. This wasn't good.

"Are you King Bradley?" the tall man asked him.

Bradley felt his tattooed eye itching in its socket. Turning his burned hands into fists hurt. The air was still cold. He might have catch a cold yesterday, letting himself get excited in that crowd. He'd never been among this many people except soldiers.

Wrath remained silent, exchanging a look with Amelia. Her anger was slowly receding, though it wasn't entirely gone. She didn't mean to cause trouble. All she wanted was to see if he was still the same man that had talked to her about fairness and justice before to sleep next to her. He wanted to convey many words in his single eye, for her to understand how sorry he was, how guilty he felt, how stuck he had been yesterday. But all his look was saying now as: please trust me. He could jump over the crowd. He could run fast enough, even while carrying her. But if she resisted, it could go wrong.

"We're not looking for trouble," King whispered. "If you're angry with me, if you want a fight, it's fine, but we're leaving the lady out of this."

How chivalrous. How preposterous. He had shown weakness already. He was running out of time. Now the man knew that Amelia mattered to him. Everyone in the crowd knew. If his brothers and Father wasn't already enough.

"My sisters weren't asking for trouble when they followed you yesterday." the giant replied.

He had deep dark eyes and a broken nose behind his long, dark hair. Not Amestrian, his face was sharper, tanner. Xinese? Maybe. Bradley didn't care, but he was analyzing still. As much as the crowd circling them. Two rows of people in circle. A man taking out a knife. Angry faces. The seconds stretched and Amelia was growing paler.

"I don't control the whole army, only my own acts," the soldier remarked.

Amelia made a face, as if she was annoyed. Was he running away with this statement? Was he deceiving her again?

"Lucky you're not in charge of the full army. I don't wanna know what you do."

Anger was back, full rage. This was so unfair. Controlling the army was his birthright. He won that right many times already. And he still had to do it all over again. The man took one step towards them, raising one fist. People seemed ready to drag Amelia out of the way, but Bradley couldn't trust them. They knew she was involved with him. They could take their anger out on her. So he decided he had wasted enough time.

He wrapped one arm around her, launching himself in the air and dragging her with him. His jump was about three meters high. Amelia cried out in fear. This was the first time he was showing her his acrobatics skills. He turned her in his arms, carrying her bridal style as he got running. Angry cries and footsteps followed him, but he was fast.

"Are you mad?" she asked him, clenching her arms around his neck as she saw the people behind them taking out guns.

"This is a crisis, Amelia. A civil war is close. The curfew will turn into martial law at this rate. With the newspaper as they are, it's not safe being my friend."

"But…!"

He dashed toward a dark alley, running faster and giving her motion sickness as he did. Gunshots were heard in the streets they just left.

"I know their family were jailed, but…"

"They attacked us with guns yesterday, jumping on Grumman's car, blowing up the pub we were in. They weren't joking around. I managed to talk a few of them out of it and things escalated but…"

He warned her he was jumping again and start climbing over a wall, using the bricks and cracks to get higher. Amelia was trying not to disturb him, as she kept her arms tightly around his neck, but she wasn't made of feathers.

"Running really is your only option?"

"I'm not involving you into a fight." he retorted, climbing and sweating.

"I'm still mad at you, you know."

He chuckled at that, realizing her tone wasn't entirely angry.

"I guessed you would be. You see any pursuers?"

Her back was brushing against the wall of bricks and she wrapped her legs around his chest, to give herself some stability, her face red from fear and shock, though she tried to sound casual. This wasn't what she had been expecting when she had went out to see him and talk things out.

"I don't know. I don't really like heights."

"It's fine. Soon, we'll be back down on earth, you'll see."

"I really meant to get answers from you about all of this." Amelia sighed,

He got them on a roof and bent down, forcing her to her knees as he checked their surroundings.

"I really meant to court you seriously before to kidnap you like this, you know."

"I know this isn't the time, but… What happened? You're like enemy number one. I know I seemed to jump to conclusion, but seeing you greet me like nothing had happened. I can never see you when I want, it's always you controlling our meetings and… And this whole affair in the newspaper."

She grabbed his hand and he winced. His fingers were covered in blood, where his burns had burst from the effort he'd made. She was about to apologize, but he interrupted her.

"First, your aunt asked my colonel to order me not to see you. Then the curfew prevented me from going out too late at night and with all that's been going on, I thought making you a public friend to a soldier was a bad idea. Last night, there was the fire and my friends in danger in an assaulted car. So I acted without thinking. Nothing was planned. And now they arrested the people I had convinced to give up arms."

 _And I'm turned into a lieutenant so the whole thing seems planned and I can't raise a full rebellion myself_ , he thought, realizing what was going on. _So the higher-ups fears me._

"This is bad. And you're in no state to run around town carrying me like a damsel in distress."

"But you're still mad."

"Of course. There are other ways to have people calm down than arresting them."

"But you still trust me?" he asked, noticing something that could lead him back in his barracks and safe from the civil.

There was a silver wire covered with flags of Amestris and the army, linking a nearby roof to the military wall. They were high enough.

"I think I don't have a choice."

He half smiled half winced at that.

"You could shove me down the roof."

"And kill myself as I try to stumble down from it afterwards? Don't you trust me a little? Even though I acted without thinking and got those guys after you, I never said you were importuning me or something. I didn't even gave them your name."

He helped her up, remaining crouched on the ceiling and they half walked half crawled to the other side of the roof, remaining as low as they could. Her braid was falling from her complicated hairstyle and ended up on his shoulder with a thud.

"I need to save my name before things get completely out of hand." He sighed. "See that wire?"

"Oh no, Brad. You're not serious…" she whispered, her voice turning as white as her face.

"This would be the worst time for jokes. We just need to get on that roof."

"We're going to jump?"

"I could throw you, but…"

She slapped him on the shoulder, to let him know he wasn't funny.

"And then what, we walk on this thin wire and pray we get to the other side?"

"I don't really believe in god."

"Wonderful. My aunt is really going to hate you, you know."

But his remark made her smile, nonetheless. The first smile since they saw each other today. He felt relieved. The fact she could keep her head cool in such a situation was a surprise, but he wouldn't ask her to panic until they would be safe. As she held his hand before the jump, he realized she was trembling. She was doing all she could not to blow up right now.

"I'm getting you out of this, Amelia. We'll get in my barracks and than a car can escort you back home or you can yell at me."

"I don't want to yell. Well, for jumping maybe, but not at you."

"When your feet will touch the ground, bent your knees and roll on yourself. The shock will hurt less."

A gunshot made her jump on place and he prevented her from falling down, putting more blood on her dress.

"This is a ten feet jump." she said.

Her anxiousness was getting stronger.

"More like seven feet. You can do it."

His own heart was beating far too fast. This was so wrong. He could run away from anything. If he had his swords with him, he could slash through any opponents. But now, he was running away with her, putting her in danger. His legs felt weak. His lungs still burned, like yesterday. The effort was a little too soon. He needed sleep. He refused to ask his souls for help, but they were cheering him.

_You can't fail. You can't fail her._

_I'm no failure_ , he thought in reply. _Till this day, I still haven't fail at one single thing._

Maybe was he too proud. But he had worked too hard to lose everything now.

"We have to go now."

"At three?" she suggested.

More gunshots in the air. People yelling in the streets. Soldiers ordering civilians out of the way.

"No time. So now. Three!"

They got up, running on the few steps left before their roof ended on the streets and lunged into the air, their hands linked together, sticky with blood.

To be continued…

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	14. Set back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where breakouts and doubts are shadowing Bradley's better judgment...

I chose you - Chapter 14

Bradley had rarely walked on a silver line in the middle of the air while carrying someone else. The wind had been dangerously strong and threatened to throw them down. Amelia had yelped in fear and her fear was bound to be in his next nightmares for the coming weeks. Now they were back on earth, both safe, though his hands needed treatment and she needed peace.

"I want her to be safely escorted back to her house, before the end of the day."

They hadn't exchanged a word since they got behind the army's walls, except for "you're alright?". It felt wrong and he'd held her if his souls and better judgement hadn't warned him against it.

"It will be done as you ordered, lieutenant Bradley."

The title didn't feel good around her. He was worried that things were still wrong between them and that she still needed to have a full explanation. She had come for answers and not only over the civil war matters. But it would have to wait.

"Can't we have just.. a moment?" she whispered.

Being ordered around wasn't like her. He couldn't exactly send her back without an explanation. But…

"I wish we could talk. But I want you to be safe." he retorted, his voice lower than a whisper.

She nodded weakly, her face still pale, her eyes filled with worried and unanswered questions. _Will you be safe?_ she seemed to cry out though she remained silent. He couldn't reply. He was already showing enough weakness and he had to do something about the jailed civilians. And his hands needed some treatment. His souls were asking for sleep too, but everything else would have to be postpone until he fixed the whole situation.

"I'll do my best to get in touch as soon as things calm down."

She frowned but accepted this answer, before to follow Juliett in the car that would see her safely home. Bradley didn't wait so he could watch her leave. He was too angry to remain quiet. Turning around, he walked toward the cell's blocks. He entered without a word and ordered the few soldiers inside to give him some time with the prisoners. His new rank would come in handy after all. At his sight, the civilians burst into shouts and angry yells:

"This was your plan from the very start, you military dog!"

He crossed his arms over his chest, chilling their anger with his dark glare.

"I didn't mean for this to happen." he whispered when the rumours of their anger was gone and silence filled the room. "I was sincerely hoping for us to talk, but as you might know, while we were plotting talks, real terrorists attacked the fuhrer's house. His daughter was killed. He needed some people to take the blame and you were right here. Which mean you couldn't be responsible, but what's fairness to a grieving man?"

"Get to the point, King Bradley. Why are you here now?" a man groaned while people whispered to each other.

They were so many in every cells, like packs of sheep, all pressed on the others. It had to feel quite invasive.

"I want to get you out of here." he said, causing them to sneer, laugh or revert in supplying for his help, though it seemed hard to believe. "There is two options. Engaging yourselves in the army you hate to reform it from the inside. Or pretend to engage yourself and beat up the naïve soldier that let you out." he added, showing them the keys to their cells.

He had borrowed them to his fellow soldiers. It was a bargain, but Bradley was aiming for something far greater than ranks or admiration. He wanted to earn himself their trust, the trust of Central population.

"You wouldn't…"

"I stand up for my ideals. Here I am, unarmed and to take your punishment. It was my fault if you got arrested yesterday. The only thing you did wrong was to trust me. I know that this can look like a trap, but there's a back door leading directly to the city. I listened to your ideas yesterday. I hope you haven't forgotten them already."

Without waiting for their consent, he unlocked the door to every cells. His hand had trouble working as quickly as he'd wanted. After a brief talk and what looked like a crowd ready for a riot, a single man was sent out, to check the back door and if Bradley was saying the truth. The other seized King, preventing him from walking away or defending himself.

"You're looking for trouble," someone warned him.

"Trouble should be my middle name," he retorted. "Now…"

A punch in the stomach cut him off and he heard his worried souls cursing or laughing in the back of his skull.

That's quite the situation you got yourself in.

I know…

If he did it because of Amelia's anger and disapproval or because he sincerely hoped this could be useful to him in the future, he couldn't tell right now. Anger was everywhere.

"He was right," the civil scout said a few punches and minutes later. "It leads right into the city."

Father's gonna be mad. But I'm still young. His plans can still work. We've got many years before us.

"Why are you doing this?" a woman asked.

"Those cells should be holding real terrorists, not idealistic or innocent people. Except those of you that started fires and blew up buildings. But we can't punish the majority for a few guilty people."

It made sense. He was moving them, just like he did yesterday. He took no pride in it, except for the fact he had finally managed to understand them. He was getting better at being a human. At lying and convincing even himself.

"Let's make it look real." one guy declared before to spit on Bradley's face. "We knocked you out and freed ourselves alone."

Was that pride or kindness? Being proud and wanting to hide the mercy he'd shown them or trying to let him off, by pretending he had been outnumbered and couldn't prevent this massive jail breakout? He couldn't tell. His hands and arms hurt and so did his jaw. He had had to confront some of the perspective furher before. Fights and killings had happened. Some guy were greedy and some were simply cruel. Bradley had never allowed himself to be cornered, but he'd never allied himself to any of them either. It would have meant weakness. He didn't need anyone. Never trusted the scientists to help him if he was alone and beaten up. So he'd beat the other kids when they tried to hurt him. His first kill had terrified him, because he could have been on the other end of the blade. Because he had understood that day that he meant nothing to anyone, unless he was a victor.

Accepting to be punched and kicked around was a contraction to everything he had ever been. He had fought and bleed and sweat to become a conqueror. To always be the one to win, to be the last to stand. His stubbornness had gotten him through every challenge. And now his anger needed something different. Winning wasn't about physically breaking your enemy. He had been shaken between his alliances. Despite himself, he liked some of the inferior humans. He was a homonculus, but only half of it. The other half was inferior in his brothers' eyes. And being inferior was worse than being ganged upon right now.

As they hit him, and since he refused to retaliate, having given his word, some civils observed how unfair this was. But he didn't care for fairness. And the soldiers hadn't been fair with any of them the other night, Some of them had bruises here and there. Broken noses and fingers. It was certainly painful for small and inferior human beings. It was painful when inflicted on him, so…

But Bradley withstood every shot, every kick, and jab, every punch and slap. He'd earned it. He knew he had to endure and last. The civilians looked puzzled by his actions and attitude.

"What are you trying to prove?"

"Nothing more than the fact I can stand up to my ideals."

"You're being trashed." a woman sighed.

"I'm being strong," he retorted.

And it went on like this, the civilians getting out of the army's barracks and taking their frustration out on Bradley. His lower lip was ripped open, both of his eyes were circled with black and his flesh was throbbing, his skin swapping colors between yellow and dark and blue.

It hurt deep, but not strongly enough. It could never be enough, because he wasn't dying out here. No before he'd reach his goal.

…

A moment later, Bradley woke from a painful slumber, surrounded by the scientists that raised him. They were talking to themselves, having stripped him off his clothes. He felt his usual anger rising within his chest, at the idea of being manipulated once more.

"What were you thinking?" Gold tooth asked him as he noticed that his perspective fuhrer was conscious.

King remained silent as he was inspected thoroughly, turned on his side. His chest and back and arms were covered in bruises and he might have a few broken ribs. He wasn't sure if it was enough to redeem himself in the population's eyes. He needed to check the newspapers, to learn what happened with the fleeing civilians. If someone had to teach him a lesson, it had to be Grumman or Mustang, not the scientists. He couldn't appear as strong as he wanted in front of them. Not when they took away his dignity. The table was cold beneath his burning skin. He saw a red spark from the corner of his eyes and tensed at the idea that there could be another injection of a stone. It couldn't happen again, could it? He had survived it once, but the wrath was still in him, still part of his bones and nerves. He tried to look up, turning his head, but heard a metal sound, as a strong wire was put around his neck. They were tying him up to the table.

Just like they did on injection day. He almost lost it at this point. Being restrained, being pulled back, it was something he wasn't supposed to live again! He didn't want to go through it, but…

"What's wrong? Why the restraint?"

"You need some treatment. We'll leave the wounds on your face and hands, because miraculous recovery would be suspicious and you've done enough on that account for now."

"I won't run." he whispered through clenched teeth.

The metal links were cold, almost biting into his skin. He felt too vulnerable, too small, though he had nothing of being ashamed of in front of those men. The table on which he lied was part of a greater mechanism and he felt it moving upward. Bounded as he was, he was forced up, as if he was standing, though he was hanging in his chains. His throat tightened and for the first time, he realized his eye patch was gone. His tattooed eye was covered with larger bandages, and the sudden pain reminded him of a kick that had almost broken his brow.

"We received clear instructions, 12. You've been acting on your own. You must refrain from being this impulsive in the future. We'll remind you of it."

Gold tooth's smile was so large, so widespread across his demented face. Around Bradley, hands were hard at work, using small philosophers stone to patch him up. He felt bites and cuts and realized he had to pay for his insubordination. Pay with blood. Why not make him realize how wrong he was? They could patch him up as much as they wanted. With human lives. He wasn't sure Father had agreed to that. This was torture, this was… uncalled for. He was one of his son. He was superior. Where were his rights? He had crossed the line, that much was clear, but…

"Aaggh!"

They had let a few of the brain rotted perspective fuhrer in the room. The soulless guys remembered him. They remembered too well, and Bradley didn't know if he had to be proud or sad that he might be the last thing they clearly remembered. The scientists were looking, leaving him to fend for himself, with his wrists in handcuffs and his legs still tied. It wouldn't last long. But if he wanted to pay, to receive punishment, he had to let the right person punish him. The first he had wronged were his comrades. And now they bite him and clawed at him when they weren't turning their hands into fists.

"Be careful, dogs. Don't damage his face or throat. The scars can't be easily noticeable."

Wrath hadn't thought his situation would get worse. But he promised himself never to lower his arms again. Even if the end result was good, even if in the human world, he'd earned himself respect. He wasn't going to give Father another chance to punish him. His leash had reached its limits. He couldn't pull anymore than that. And that angered him more than anything else. He was no better than the dogs. No better than the dirt on which they all stepped.

 _And I'll become Fuhrer. I'll be the one. Damn you, damn it, all of you, I'll be the puppet standing right on top. So humiliate me as much as you can now. Cause it won't last_ , he thought bitterly, doing his best not to show his pain or the underlying fear.

Hours later, he was freed, well, as freed as he could be given the fact his life itself was a cage. He was slightly shaking as he walked into his barracks. From anger, he kept on telling his souls, but they all knew better. He was no superior being. If Father decided to dispose of him for the sake of his plans, he would. He couldn't exactly be replaced, but it might be possible. Who know if Gold tooth wasn't raising thirty new candidates to take up his place if he proved himself unworthy?

"Are you alright, Brad?" Grumman asked him.

The whole squad knew he had been beaten up by the escaping civilians.

"Fine. I just need some sleep."

But sleep was filled with the groans and bites of the other prospective Fuhrer. The faces that could have been his, the faces that could have towered over him as he'd lay broken in a field, a sword driven in his guts. The faces that could have smiled to Amelia in his stead, or to some of the higher graded woman in gold tooth's list. Imagining them in the same picture than Amelia turned into a full-fledged nightmare, were they pursued the woman, armed with swords and their mouth dribbling, as if they wanted to take a bite of her. He woke up in the middle of the night, shivering and sweating, his throat dry.

You were yelling in your sleep, his souls warned him.

 _That can't be_ , he thought, mortified.

"Lieutenant Bradley, are you combat ready?"

He blinked, realizing that Kimblee was standing in the doorway and that Grumman was looking down at him from the upper bed. Their ranks weren't high enough to have a separate room, though Eli usually went back home instead of staying the night.

"What's going on?" the blond man asked.

An alarm was groaning in the distance.

"Civil war has been declared. They put another house on fire. A general's house. And half of your runaways came right up to enlist themselves. Would you believe that?"

Bradley would have smiled if he still cared. His plan had worked, but the price was too heavy, too fresh in his mind.

"They did, huh? That was my best gamble so far."

"Now, both of you get up. We have real civilians to save and culprits to chase down."

Bradley obeyed, but his hands were still shaking. He tried to keep it all in. The beating, the threats and the swallowed back anger. If he shook, it was only because of that, anger he repeated to himself. But he was no fool. Grumman gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder, meant to cheer him up, but the newly appointed lieutenant backed away, tensing like a wild animal. All humanity was far, far. Fear, anguish and resentment were the only things left. I saved them and look what they did to me. Since I managed to survived the stone, the wrath, I saved all of those human wrecks and they repay me by obeying like brainless soldiers. I saved those civilians and still, they beat me until I fell unconscious, unable to fend for myself. Unable to refuse the scientists' help and warnings.

He'd rarely lost consciousness except for the moment he was sleeping or when he truly overexert himself. He could go on without sleep for days before to crack down. He'd never really cracked down until today, when he felt overwhelmed by the contradictory questions and answers he had.

You're not human, but you're still too human to be worth our approval. You may appear to have a will of your own, but you can't use it before we say so. Anything you do, we'll keep it against you. Every drop of blood you'll shed won't change anything. You're a cog in the machine. Just a pawn. Just another pawn. Those dying in your way were meant to take you to higher place. Higher rank, where we want you to be. The very goal we gave you was our idea. Our will. Our goal. Nothing belongs to you, not the ideas in your head, not even the blood in your veins. You're my son. My possession. My trash.

King Bradley, that's a nice name huh? Which part of it belongs to you? None of it. Which part of your knowledge, or your skill, belongs to you alone? We decided what you'd learn. We'd decided how you'd fight. We made you. We'll unmake you if need be.

The truth behind his life seemed crystal clear and it angered him to no end. But he wasn't shaking only from anger. Right now, he was scared. Scared to lose it, scared to falter and crack. He couldn't be weak. He couldn't run to Amelia for comfort even if he wanted. His tattooed eye was still covered with bandages. He was healing faster than normal human, but he had to hide it as much as possible.

"You look like you're going to be sick," Grumman sighed to him.

"I'm fine. I just need fresh air."

…

The sight of burned woods and scraped metal melted into human flesh wasn't at all what Bradley needed to see. But he took it in, appreciating the fact this flesh wasn't his, that this had happened far away from the place where Amelia lived with her aunt and that culprits could be found and punished on the spot. Executions. Taking lives. Fighting back. After the day he had, he could use some retaliation. He tried to keep it cool. To stay quiet. When another fire started and some teenagers ran buy, mocking them, he was the first to start chasing after them. His swords were ready and he refused to take out his gun. He needed to vent some anger out. He needed to break down some other people before that his sanity left him.

Blood splashed on walls, dripping from wide wounds. Tears and cries flashed through the city streets as he chased the terrorists, a shadow dressed in blue, his bandages falling slowly from his face, showing a crust of blood and purple skin around his tattooed eye that refused to open. The cold air on his swollen cheek was welcome. The guts spilling from his blade were wanted, desired. His stomach churned in protest, but he willed the few things he'd eaten to remain where they were. Wrath was stronger than anything else tonight. This rage would be his. This rage would belong to him and him to her. Racing and running, letting himself turn into the war monster he had been, he tracked every last one of their culprits. And he made them bleed, leaving no choice but death. He had talked enough. He had paid enough. His whole life was a sacrifice from his very birth and he was sick of this charade.

His mind came back as soon as Kimblee was congratulating him for his work.

"Though you could have been a little cleaner about it. You're off for now. We'll clean behind you."

Which mean Grumman would be doing the cleaning. Bradley was glad he could wander off. He gave back one of his blade, which had broken in his last victim. His hands were shaking again, as the fear came back. Would all that blood be enough? Had he killed those person to prove himself or just to let the rage out for once? He felt weaker than before now that all the running was over. His throat was hoarse and his lungs burned. Adrenaline was running through his veins. Flashes of the afternoon tortures came back to him. Father was crossing some lines too, but he couldn't protest. He had to be the perfect soldier and he would be.

That didn't make any of his doings right. He felt the disgust rushing back and tried to tell himself it was human weakness that disgusted him. But it was a lie. Because he was weak and predictable. He had been influenced into doing this, somehow. Why not be weak all the way then?

…

Amelia was surprised to see Bradley standing in her front door, one sword resting in its sheath. He was wearing civilian's cloths, dark pants and a white buttoned shirt under his black jacket.

"What happened to you…?!"

He walked in uninvited, not even caring about what her aunt could think about this intrusion.

"It's official, Amelia. There's nowhere safe around Central. So I came by to make sure…"

His voice died down on the lie and he looked away from her, trying to get back to himself. Who was that? The man, the confused homonculus, the soldier who didn't fight and talked about an idealistic country that would never exist? She sighed, her shoulders lowering beneath her shawl. Her hair was down and it was late, so late in the night he felt ashamed. He had certainly woken her.

"We can have our time alone now?"

He nodded, his throat too tight for words to come out. She wasn't looking away, even if he looked like shit. She wasn't annoyed. What he didn't was that she hadn't been sleeping.

"I heard the sirens and yells outside, even if they were far. I couldn't sleep." she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up the stairs.

They went to her room, where he pulled down the stores, making sure they were hidden safely. She locked her door, hoping it would reassure him.

"You brought your sword." she observed.

She was impressed, and not entirely in a good way and he put the weapon in a corner of the room, apologizing if it worried her.

"I can't walk around without anything to defend myself. I… I might become a target."

How could he keep a straight face in front of her, he couldn't say. His hands were still shaking. The shaking went up to his shoulders. She walked up to him, as he stood in the middle of the room.

"So why would you come here to see me, when you couldn't take a minute to talk to me earlier today?"

As she reached one hand to him he flinched away and she gasped, shocked by his reaction.

"I'm sorry." he whispered. "I've been trying to make sense, but…"

He tried to remain still as she took one tentative step towards him. She was no threat. She could never be a threat. That was the very reason why he'd come to her.

"I heard you let the citizen out of jail. All of your own. They did this to you, didn't they?"

She pointed his swollen eye, the one hidden behind the scar, refraining herself from touching him. He slowly nodded, focusing on his breathing, on keeping it in check, on keeping his calm. He wasn't here to break down. Why was he here already?

"You didn't do it because of what I said, did you?"

"I'm not the knight type. I did it for myself. Because I never meant for them to be jailed. And because I thought arresting them wouldn't change anything. But don't think I won't chase them down if they prove dangerous."

"I know. I know and it's okay, King."

That seemed to loosen something within him and he lost control of his breathing, of his shakings. How could it be okay? How could anything could be fix, when the reality was so twisted, so distorted from what it should be?! She saw the change in his eye, the paleness of his untouched skin, where there was no bruise or blood. He swallowed back the wave of pain that ran through him, bringing her between his arms at the same time. That was what he'd wanted to do, from the moment he'd seen her on the street after walking out of his barracks.

"I killed them. Those who started the fires tonight. Every last one of them."

She shivered, but she didn't move away.

"Brad…"

"This is what I am, Amelia. Deep down, beneath the eye patch, beneath the uniform, beneath the letters. I kill when I'm ordered to kill. I would kill if there were no order. It makes me feel stronger. As if I earned my right to live another day."

"You don't need to earn such a right." she protested, slowly wrapping her arms around him.

She seemed cautious of touching him, and he realized she expected him to flinch in response, because he was scared, or hurt, or both.

"You don't need to be this patient with me."

"What did they do to you? Look at me Brad."

She pushed him back, gently, softly, but he didn't want to meet her eyes. He wasn't at his best. Just holding her should have been enough, but he kept shaking, trembling. It was growing stronger, growing on him, the trembling running in his insides, his shoulders, his arms. He must be looking pathetic and he wanted to hide, to hide here, far from her eyes, but close to her heart that was still welcoming.

Her fingers brushed against his neck, her hands framing his face, as softly as possible.

"You need some ice on your face."

"It's fine…"

Her eyes scanned him over and her inspection felt worse than any other stare, because she cared and showing weakness in front of her felt wrong, so wrong. She noticed something on his neck and pulled on his collar to get a better look, throwing his heart into a crescendo in his chest.

"Is that… a bite mark?"

He froze, remembering the prospective Fuhrers surrounding him, almost sending the wall he was hanging on back into its table position. Their hands and dirty nails on him. Their vacant eyes, filled with mist, their faces grimacing with rage. He shivered, closing his eye shut, willing the pictures away.

"Don't…"

He was too open, he shouldn't have come to her. He pulled his collar back up, and since his shaking turned stronger, she looked even more worried.

"Brad, who did this to you!?"

"Don't ask. It's fine. It's over. Don't worry. Please."

Short sentences, short answers, because his voice couldn't stay steady for longer than that.

"But King…!"                                                   

He grabbed on her shoulders, forcing the trembling to stop and almost winning that fight.

"I don't want pity. I don't want anyone licking my wounds."

"I think you should sit down. And stop holding everything back. You're hurt, and scared."

He gulped down, feeling shame, but recognition too. She didn't let go of his eyes, didn't change the way she looked at him. She was understanding, was ready to wait for him to get over it. Amelia got him to sit down on her bed and took his hands in hers.

"Does it hurt?"

Bandages still covered his burned flesh and he simply nodded.

"Barely."

"It's okay to hurt, you know."

"Not like that."

And she understood the inner meaning. As if she could hear his souls too. That he had no right to feel hurt and receive compassion. That he deserved it for killing people. It was written all over his face.

"I can't forgive anyone who hurts an innocent person. And though you might not be entirely innocent, it doesn't make it right for anyone to… to do whatever they did to you."

She had no idea, no idea. She seemed ready to cry and he whimpered, unable to hold everything back. He tried to look away, to look down to his hands. Why did he have to shake like this?

"I'm not… It wasn't wrong to let them out. They weren't guilty of the charges against them. I wanted to shoulder the blame, since it had been my idea. But I can't… I'm not ranking high enough to have any idea of my own."

Why was he telling her that? Because he was already helpless enough? Because it didn't matter what she thought of him? Of course it mattered. But…

"King!"

She sounded so sorry for him.

"It's fine, Melia. I'm just… worn out."

"Worn out?!"

He wanted to appease her, but he had never felt like this before. The war had broken him before, but not that way.

"I'm a mess. Just messier than last time…"

"I'll try and fix you if that's what you want. I can just listen to you if you prefer. But right now, I think I need a hug."

She pushed him backwards to have enough place to sit in his lap. At first, both of them thought he would back away, refusing the intimate contact. But he welcomed her in his arms. Her smell felt so full of life. He run one finger over her hair, sorry that he couldn't taste the entire feel of it under his hands, because of his burns and bandages.

"You know you can trust me, Bradley?"

"I know."

She stroked his back, in feathery motions, drawing circles and vines. It was soothing but his trembling remained. He felt so small, so vulnerable. He was disposable. His confidence was shaken. He wanted to be free to act as he pleased. To live in the same delusion those petty humans had. Why couldn't he have that? Why was she the only thing he decided about? Why did it mean putting her in danger too? Why did danger scared him? He could live through any torture they could imagine for him. Any humiliation. He would get on top no matter what. But knowing it was planned. Knowing that the glory wouldn't really belong to him. Knowing that it was a lie, another kind of delusion. That made him angry. That hurt. He could have howled if it wasn't for her, being this close, holding onto him.

So he cried, for the first time in front of another human being. It felt intimate and dangerous at first, till he realized she wasn't judging him. Amelia ran her hands through his hair, touching some bumps here and there on his head, but trying to comfort him nonetheless. He hadn't meant to come looking for a shoulder to cry on. Hadn't meant to sound pitiful. But she had once told him that he could lay the pain on her and count on her support. And he was thankful for it. More than thankful.

When Bradley felt a little lighter, he eased his embrace on the young woman. He could have crushed if he'd hug her any closer. He realized that she was shaking a little now.

"Are you… are you okay?" he asked, moving back

"I'm fine, Brad. It's just… scary to see you like this. And to think that there's a civil war going on."

"I know I might not sound encouraging… But it's gonna be alright."

She smiled to him and at this point he knew they did trust each other.

To be continued…


	15. Fairness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley read a book and Amelia shows utter honesty.

I chose you - Chapter 15 - Fairness

There had been less nightmares that night. And the night was far gone when Bradley's mind reached back to consciousness. Sleeping in a warm embrace seemed familiar, though he was still awkward with human contact. But this was Amelia's room. He felt her hands running through his hair and inhaled her scent deeply. Clean skin, her hair smelled of soap and lemon, her hands were too soft, too gentle. He wouldn't get up today. Being snuggled next to her, in their shared warmth was far better than going back outside or to Father.

"King?" she asked him.

He sighed, cracking his good eye open. His back was against the wall and the room was still dark, with the curtains closed. He seemed to take all the space in the bed, he had to bent his legs not to have his feet in the air, pulling on the sheets. She was right between in his arms, her face next to his, one arm slipped beneath the pillow, the other one on his side, her hand framing his face.

"Don't tell me you have to get up…"

She smiled at that, as he pulled her closer, digging his face in the hollow of her neck.

"I'd stay here if I could, but my aunt…"

"I know. I should probably head back. But I didn't manage to answer a single question you asked yesterday."

His voice sounded hoarse and weird, but she didn't seem annoyed. He was certainly looking awful and still, she wouldn't look away from him. Why did she care so much? What had he done for her to earn that much? Was he abusing her kindness?

"You need to rest up more. You can stay here. I'll bring you some water and something to clean up. You need another bandage on that eye. And maybe some ointment on your other wounds."

Her hand stroked his neck, making him flinch backward. The bite mark was stinging a lot more than it did the other day.

"Stop worrying about me. I have to make all of this up to you. You've been looking after me from the very start."

"Maybe does it help me. To think I can be of use to someone." she retorted.

And she sounded so serious he felt scared. Had something bad happened? Had he missed something about her, about her life? She was quiet. Too quiet for a woman her age. She had lost a brother, so he guessed that could be the reason why she'd be more mature than most of the woman he'd met. She was living with her aunt who was chastising her about anything and everything. Her parents were far and she saw them for a single month, to help with their store. Wherever she was, she helped, but he didn't reminded her talking of friends. A quiet, lone girl. He tried to recall her letters, but she only asked about him, barely mentioning her own past. Why was she so alone when she was so friendly with him? He tried to remember the woman out on the street, cleaning the front of her aunt's hotel. She had seemed full of doubts and untrusting at first, as much as she was angry. But she seemed friendly with the clients and the people answering her at the shops. She was nice to kids. So why would she need to feel useful to anyone? His eye widened and he looked for the right words as he started:

"Why…?"

She freed her arm from the pillow and sat up next to him, cutting him short with a finger on his ripped lips.

"Don't think too much. Rest more, Brad. We'll talk later, when I'll bring you some food."

She was speaking low and he wanted to ask for answers, but he couldn't, not when he refused to answer her own questions just the other day. So little time had gone by since he'd taken her to those roofs, climbing against a wall with her clinging to him as they ran from the enraged civilians. He remembered her arms around his neck and her legs, tightly closed around his waist. Wrong thoughts, not proper thoughts, but better than those that came with the wounds he was still carrying.

"I'm going to change myself. I hope you'll be a gentleman about it."

He swore to and turned his back on her, trying not to focus on the noise of clothes shuffling. A minute later, she warned him she was leaving for a few hours.

"Don't try to get out before I'm back, Brad. I want to have more time with you, when you'll be fully rested, okay?"

He nodded, sitting in her bed, his tattooed eye covered with a crust of blood, his skin aching from every bites and scratches beneath his clothes. She left like that and he stayed behind, because he knew she would come back and because he was truly too tired to oppose her. He looked around him, to the desk with a few books and sheets left on it. Her shawl was lying on the chair and the walls seemed too close for comfort. But Amelia's presence was everywhere. It felt different from its barracks quarters, where his little belongings were packed and stashed neatly, almost in surgery-like order. His belongings were his swords, a few maps, one single book over Amestris' history, with half of its pages left blank, because he was suppose to rewrite the rest to follow with Father's plan… Other than that, Grumman had given him a pen and a notebook, in case his memory would fail him at some point, or in case Eli needed a friend to remember a pretty woman phone's number for him. It was the latter that mattered the first lieutenant more.

Bradley didn't mind. He had one small razor blade, to take care of his appearance. And that was about it. Maps of the city, maps of the neighbouring countries, his personal favourite weapon, blades, and the few ammunitions he was allowed for his gun. He didn't have to explain himself with sword. Grumman had seemed puzzled at first for this special right, but it was soon made clear that King had superhuman abilities in combats and swords that defied most natural laws. In response to the many questions he got, Bradley retorted that his weapons were made by a gifted alchemist selling his work to the army. Juliett had observed that guns were faster than sword. To which Bradley had chuckled and whispered back: "I'm faster than guns."

It had been the only time he'd ever sound cocky and the other had laughed and he had laughed with them. Until the first real fight, where he had shown his skills. Kimblee had sworn beneath his breath, thinking that he'd prefer to have him on his sight. And Bradley wondered. If one day, his skills could make him strong enough to stand against Father. It sounded preposterous. The idea made him want to train more. But he stopped wondering and slowly got up, being careful not to make any noise. He wanted to learn things about Amelia. She had left him here, with no other instruction than to rest. So why not inspect the place a little more? Maybe was there one of her favourite book lying around. On the shelves across the wall, he found two novels, both worn by time and clear use, though he could tell that Amelia treated her books well. The first novel was over a man travelling the world, promising everything and anything to everyone he met and finding love and power along the way. A fairy tale kind of story. Bradley put it back on the shelves. It was too long for him to get through it before that the young woman came back. The other one was about a family living in an old country, and old rules and their second born life. The first sentences caught his attention and he found himself reading a full page.

_Jonathan knew he wouldn't be able to chose his wife or his profession from the very first day of his conscious live. When born high enough, parents decided in which family you'd marry and where you should do your studies. They would also decide which kid in the neighbourhood you should befriend or not. Jonathan knew and wanted his life to be easy, unlike that of his elder sister, who had ran away with a stranger on her sixteenth birthday. The girl was unheard of and neither of their parents spoke her name ever again. Jonathan remembered it, but barely, in a corner of his mind. She was a disgrace for the Arkers and disgrace was more dangerous than disease in Campterburry._

_When he was told to befriend Arthur Whitecraft, he accepted whole-heartily, even if he had seen Arthur pick fights with boys smaller than him, even if he had seen Arthur kick an helpless dog until the thing died and even if Arthur liked to pick on girls until they would cry. Arthur Whitecraft was heir to a fortune and an empire. For the Arker, he was the right connection to the society they belonged to. For Jonathan, as long as he didn't have to kill dogs or make girls cry, Whitecraft was fine. But somehow, he knew that he couldn't trust the cruel man his friend turned into. And he did kill a few dogs and cats to prove worthy of that friendship. In the mundane world, people revered the young man, hunters and good marksman. Jonathan simply hoped he'd never became Arthur's prey. But disgrace was worse than the fear and it was too late to go back._

_When he had to study abroad, in a town he knew nothing about, he didn't complain. The memory of his sister, gone, without an afterthought, without a tear from his mother or father, was enough to muzzle all of his complaints. Love came with resignation. Care came with obligation and obedience. He was a good son. He would be a doctor. Even if he felt awkward around people, even if he'd rather learn science and work on machines than living beings. Wood didn't yell when you twisted it or nailed it and yells of pain always gnawed at his heart, ever since he was a small boy. But sensibility wasn't as important as any potential disgrace._

_When he was mentally preparing himself to meet Lillie Borough for the first time, he wasn't scared, but filled with expectations. She was the one for him. The one he should love and cherish and who would support him in life. She had the money to support his family, at least and that was enough for a happy marriage according to his mother. But before that the meeting could even happen, he met a woman on a street that called up his name. Her clothes were dirty, her face was red and her shape was uneven, as if she couldn't stand straight. She had dirt in her hair and her right cheek was swollen, purple. She missed a few teeth in her half smile. Jonathan was disgusted, but also sorry for her. And then he met his eyes, and he realized who she was. His breath was caught in his lung and everything around and within him froze that very instant._

_"Brother." she called after him._

_And her hazel eyes were the same as his departed sister. Magdalena. He blinked, seeing her reach one hand towards him, smiling with tears in her eyes._

_"You've grown. You look rather handsome."_

_"You must be mistaken."_

_Jonathan had no idea what to feel or what to tell her. She was supposed to be gone, to be death, not to exist anymore. And there she was, in their hometown, dressed with rags, but alive, clearly alive despite her poor appearance._

_"I've seen you taking a walk last week, Jon. I knew it was you. I had to see you."_

_It was wrong to talk to her. Wrong to acknowledge her. But wasn't it wrong to run away from her too?_

Bradley forced himself to stop his reading. How strange. He felt compelled by this story. Jonathan sounded quite like him. Forced into many things he didn't want, his life planned for him, unravelling without any decision on his part. He wanted to learn more about him. To see if in a storybook, someone could get out of the path chosen for him. Breaking free, truly free. No rules. No drawn lines that could be crossed and would earn him a punishment. But then, that would mean he wasn't strong enough to face the pressure. It would mean giving up. And he had the right to taste at least a little glory. He had the right to seize this military world.

He pushed the book back on the shelf, memorizing its title. Reading novels was meaningless back when he was a perspective fuhrer. Now, with the pretence of learning more about human nature, he might be able to get off with it. He noticed a letter written on the desk in the corner of his eyes and turned around to scan it. It was addressed to Amelia's mother. He recognized her curvy handwriting right away and read before to think about it. He liked reading her. He loved to read her in fact. His souls gave him a few warning but he was already half-way through it.

It seemed that Amelia's father was ill. His face darkened and his left eye throbbed in its socket. It really wasn't fair.

_I wish I could come back home to see you and dad, mom, but the city is closed off. There's no train going out. Don't worry about us though. The women from Corsaire's family are made tough, as you know. If you have to close up the shop to take care of father, I'll find a way to send you more money._

The paper was stained there and Bradley noticed how she'd written down notes about changing her way of saying things. Her mother didn't need any more reasons to worry about her.

_I need to change her ideas by talking about Bradley. Telling her he has seriously asked to court me. That he's a good man and that they won't have to worry about their single daughter for the rest of their lives. I have a great life out here. The civil war news mustn't reach her, at least, not through me. Our village is far enough… Dad will get better and the war won't reach them. Not again. Not… again._

More stains. Her hand shook as it held the pen. Bradley put both of his hands on the desk to steady himself, picturing her as she was bent down on her letter, with her shoulders shaking and no one to comfort her. Why had she said "not again"? Because of her brother, surely? He was starting to picture all kind of things, all kind of wrong things. When had she wrote this? The new letter wasn't anywhere in sight and he didn't dare to search through her things. That would be highly improper. Just to read this letter was wrong.

He looked up to the clock on the whole. Half an hour since she had left. Half an hour and he already wanted to hug her in his arms and to keep her there. He sighed, looking back to the novel he'd left on the shelves. He couldn't sleep now. Not with Amelia's worries so clear in his mind. He sat on her bed, with her book and kept on reading. The fact the story focused on Jonathan Arker felt funny, because the guy showed no temper, no ideas. He had inner thoughts, but buried so deep he seemed void. Empty. Arthur described him as a mirror, giving the answers his interlocutor wanted, saying anything that felt right, but never speaking his mind, never acting himself. He was a mime, mimicking what other told him too. Arthur finished his portray by saying that he pitied the guy and kept him around to get more deer on their hunts and to see how far he'd go to stay on friendly terms with him. If one thing was right about Jonathan Arker, it was his aim. But Jonathan didn't know how to judge a character. He was resigned to everything. When his sister asked for his help, he reluctantly gave it, even if the inner Jonathan would have given anything to know her, because she was the only person who'd ever love him for what he was and not because he did as he was told. When his sister met Arthur Whitecraft and turned into a new mockery prey, he mocked her with Whitecraft, feeling a burning guilt inside him. He didn't apologized. Then he met Lillie Borough and realized she was worse than Arthur. When she mocked his sister, he got mad for the first time in his whole life.

And Bradley kept on reading, his tattooed eye fluttering open somewhere in the middle of it. He thought that the rules of those petty humans were pretty stupid, but he understood them because he was bounded too. He hadn't chose to be rash or edgy. He had become like this to survive. He could have been different with different surroundings. He wondered if Amelia would still love him without the patch, without the soldier's uniform, without the swords and the skills and the tough seriousness. Would his jokes have the same bite? Would he exude the same authority, the same anger? Would she be the same herself, in a world where he'd be different? Would they still meet?

Some would say he was daydreaming. But he followed Jonathan, turning the pages Amelia had turned, wondering how deep the rules would break that character and how long he would accept to follow them. He forgot his wounds for the time being, forgot the time. The novel was simple in the way it was written, but the characters were interesting. He could give a face to every of them. Arthur was Kimblee. Jonathan was a mix of him and the other perspective Fuhrers. Magdalena was Juliett. Lillie was Lust, in a degraded version. Arker's father was his Father, the mother was a feminine version of Golden tooth, with thick glasses and a mullet on her cheek and a more feminine face. She was awful and he hated her deeply, for what she did to both her child. And at some point, a servant caught his attention, just as Jonathan noticed her. She looked frail but was a strong, working girl. She'd joined his parents' aides a few months ago, about around the time his sister showed up. The servant was sweet and earnest and honest and hardworking. She fell ill and Jonathan treated her, even if his mother disagreed. A doctor should be paid for his work. Saving lives was a business. Just as killing people was one for Bradley.

The servant had Amelia's face and smile. A doorway to what life should be. A ray of sunshine. A dozen rays at that. She seemed invincible, taking life head on, with all the rules, but not caring entirely for them. Slowly, they got closer. But Jonathan was supposed to marry someone else. His sister died from a bullet wound. He learned that Arthur had hunted her down like a madman and would get away with it, since she was nothing more than a beggar on the street. Revenge was the only solution in Bradley's mind, but it was out of the question. Until another trigger. Arthur mistreated the Arker's servants on his stay at their house. The whole family didn't bother as it was discovered, it couldn't be called a rape unless it was done to a noble's woman. Mere servants were there to answer to their master's needs.

It sounded trivial, simple-minded for a story, but Bradley was still mad, because he was picturing the whole thing quite vividly, because Jonathan's anger was his and because the rules in his own world weren't that far from this novel's. Human were pawns far less valuable than him. The other homonculi liked to play with them and dispose of them. It was simple and easy. He did it himself already. But he felt human right now. He wanted Arthur to suffer and to pay for his crimes. He wanted Jonathan to wake up before that things went too far and they had already gone too far for his standards. He almost wanted to give up reading and decide of the right ending himself, but there was a lot left to read. The hours were going by, but he didn't noticed them.

When Jonathan challenged Arthur for a duel, Bradley wondered if the Whitecraft would win, just to prove to the reader how unfair the world could be. Would he cheat? The servant had been sent away, pregnant with her rapper's child, broken and barely paid for her loyal deeds. Jonathan had had no say in the matter, as always, but that was about to change. In a few words, Jonathan went rogue. He killed Arthur in cold blood, before to threaten his parents to kill himself if he wasn't given the money from his heritage right now. After some hesitation, begging and barked orders that were answered with bullets and swears, the young man ran away with little gold but all the rage he needed to fuel his goals. He looked everywhere for the servant he once treated, the first life he'd saved as a doctor, not once, but twice. He found her in a covenant and asked her to follow him, which she did, even if she was ashamed and thought that she shouldn't ask for any more mercy.

The rest was their struggle, first to find some place to live far from disgrace and police officers and lawyers. They traveled over two countries to find some peace, Jonathan working as hard as Christiana, the one he'd chosen just a little late, but not too late. She gave birth to her child, in pain and in tears, and that was another life Jonathan saved, and kept on saving, since its mother had trouble coming to terms with the way she'd been forced to have this child. Time passed, and Jonathan worked, buying them a simple house, trying to amend for his mistakes. He fixed people and machines, while what needed to be fixed was Christiana's heart and both their souls. Slowly, she let him love her, first in words, then in small, careful touches, and in flesh, when she felt cleaner and more at peace. Another child came, and Bradley wondered what was the point to keep the story going any farther. Wasn't the point proven? Wasn't the disgrace overcome by freedom and great effort?

Than a police officer showed up, to take Jonathan away, because his crimes had to be paid for. The Whitecraft 's had power. There was a few sentences left to the book and Bradley felt deceived, wondering why Amelia would put up with such a terrible and twisted story. But then he read it.

_Jonathan smiled to Tiana as she cried, holding their baby boy in her arms. They had almost nothing and his crimes called for either money or time._

_"Please don't hang him." Christiana called out. "Please don't take him away. He's all we have."_

_"Don't say that, dear. You have the kids. You have your own skills. You've worked as hard as I did. And you'll always have me."_

He was taken away like this, without a last kiss, without a proper farewell. His judgment was _swift but merciful, thanks to his last name. His death wouldn't be torture. His life would slip off at the end of a blade, not an axe or a rope. Swift and almost painless. Jonathan was sad not to have more years with Tiana, or with the kids,…_

Bradley was angry at the book by this point. But…

_…but he was glad to die knowing he'd done more than was ever expected from him. It was his last revenge on the parents that had made the first half of his life miserable without him realizing it._

On the last page, Amelia had written a small note:

_Jonathan was a fool not to run with the woman he loved when the police came for him, but then again, he had a few years, which were filled with hardships but were better than all the uneasy years of lies and silent resignation he gave up before. He had to be shaken out of his golden cage. He had to let the woman he loved get hurt. But once awoken, he never faltered. He fought. And when he thought he'd done enough, and only then did he gave up. I just wished he'd still fight. But life isn't a book…_

That final note helped Bradley accept the book a little more. It was then that Amelia walked into the room, carrying a jug of water, a small towel and a tray of food. She had a bag on her shoulder and the homonculus marvelled at the fact she could juggle so many things at once. He wasn't clumsy, but he doubted he could go past a set of stairs carrying all this without dropping something.

"You didn't sleep." she observed, setting the food on her desk and walking up to him with a frown.

Before that he could say anything, she got to work, giving him a glass to drink and starting to wipe away the dried blood on his face. He tried to resist her, saying he could take care of himself, but she insisted and he quickly conceded. As she went on with her ministrations, she asked him how he'd find the book.

"You've already read it?"

"I might have jumped over a few passages. I was more interested in knowing when that guy would realize his life was off the trail."

"Skipping over passages is a terrible thing to do when you read a book, King. But I guess such a read would be boring for a man."

"The duels and hunts were interesting. The writer knows how guns works. And that psycho sounded just like my colonel."

She laughed, and then realized that he was serious.

"Did you like it?"

"I don't know. You seemed to like it, I mean, you can tell it's been read more than once or twice, so… I was interested."

"The novel makes me dream of different endings and solutions. I like most every characters and the world they live in. It's not that far-fetched from our society."

He grabbed her hands, refusing to use the book as a way to forget what truly mattered.

"Why are you so set on fixing me up, Amelia? Why do you said you wanted to feel of use to someone?"

She seemed surprised and looked away, fidgeting with the tissue she'd used to clean his face.

"You're covered with bites, aren't you?" She whispered after a few seconds.

"What?"

"Civilians don't bite. But those aren't dog bites either."

"How do you know what dog bites look like?" he retorted.

He didn't like where she was taking him, where this was heading. He would have to lie and it was kinda hard. Her fingers were brushing along the buttons of his shirt. She seemed hesitant but also decided. She looked lost and found and lost again, depending on whether their eyes were meeting or not. He tried to lock his gaze in hers. To speak up what he really wanted to ask, what he really wanted to tell. But his voice was muffled. If she was the woman from the book, the sweet servant that was supposed to revolve in a different world than Jonathan, then they were still too far. But she seemed reachable. And he was open. Quite too open as that.

"I had a dog."

"It never bite you, did it?"

"It fought other dogs to protect me. This isn't what a dog's bite looks like." She repeated, following the curve of the mark on his neck with the tip of her fingers.

Blast those brain rotten maniacs. Damn those scientists. He covered her hand with his.

"Amelia, what's going on with you? Why do you keep on focusing on me like this? Is something wrong with you? Or your family? Is it the civil war or…"

"War isn't suppose to happen right next to my house. But since yesterday, you've been acting as you do upfront. I thought we were safe here. But we're not, and even if I have ideas and desires, I'm powerless to do anything at all. So I need to focus on other things. I have to make myself useful to someone else than my aunt, because she's driving me crazy. She's scared, I know that's why. She can feel the tension. There will be less customers. If we let soldiers in and they ask for anything…"

She shivered and Bradley felt his heart tumbling down in his chest at the sight of her own fear.

"Did something bad happen?"

"No. It's in the past. I wasn't there. I didn't know until recently. That's why she's been so hard on us, so hard on me, and I can understand, but… I don't want you to worry. It's stupid to be scared because of things that happened in the past. As long as we're lucky, nothing can reach us."

"What's wrong?"

"Who did this to you, Brad. Civilians madmen? Dogs? Will they turn on us?"

Her face was so white, he felt ashamed. He couldn't lie. He couldn't tell the truth. He couldn't comfort her, when it was all he wanted to do.

"They won't. They're military dogs. They're kept under control and restrained."

"So then, why…?"

She seemed close to tears. She'd been working hard to keep it all in. She might have cried with him in the early morning, when they were holding on each other. He didn't want her to cry again.

"Don't ask, Amelia. Don't force answers out of me, because I can't tell. There are military secrets that needs to stay hidden."

"Was it because of the people you freed?"

"They don't need a reason. I was too rash. I need to report everything I do between their walls. It was just a reminder. I'm still too useful for them to go overboard."

"And this…! This isn't going overboard?!"

Her anger seemed so sweet, so pure. She cared. Damn her for caring and damn his life for being so complicated.

"I'm glad you take my safety so seriously, but you have to let some things go. I will be hurt again in the future. I will go through worse if I want to reach my goal. It's part of the path I chose."

His throat felt tight and she looked torn. It was wrong. It was so very wrong.

"I don't want you to be hurt. They must have done terrible things to you. You were tortured once already," she added, pointing his closed eye.

"And it's in the past. Don't worry about me. I'm not dying from any little wound. Tell me why you're scared. For your aunt, for yourself?"

She shivered again and this time, he wrapped his arms around her, unable to resist his instinct anymore.

"I don't know, Brad."

"Tell me what happened the other day. Why you came up to see me? You had questions and I bet I can give you some answer."

"Wipe yourself clean first. All that blood on your face… You should have rested more."

He complied and she was amazed to realize his ripped lips were closed and full again, looking healthy, even in the thin line he pulled them when he smiled at her. He could have kiss her right there, but he wanted them to talk, to act normally. And things needed to be set straight between them.

"You don't feel safe around here, do you?"

"I don't know." she admitted. "Our business means our door has to be open to anyone. Usually, there's no problem, but in such times, if we have to close up the hotel and even the dining room, we won't have any resources."

"Didn't your aunt found an investor the other day?"

"It's not that simple."

"If you need money, maybe I could…"

"This is not… I'm not trying to leech off your savings, King!"

She sat next to him, as if she couldn't think straight if she remained between his arms.

"I'm on edge. I didn't mean to yell either. The thing is… Once, my aunt was assaulted by one of her clients. The very fact she remained in the business is a proof of strength or stubborness. She never got married, never accepted to rely on a man and I was proud of her ideas, because I think a woman can fend for herself. But the other day, she cracked down and told me about all of it, because she feared that it could happen again with everything going on. So I went out to have a talk with you, because I was scared and because I wanted to prove her wrong. And after being shot at for one of the first times in my life, I can say that I stand corrected."

Bradley took a few seconds to swallow it all up. He could picture every scenes Amelia was in. He could picture her grief and sympathetic pain for her aunt. The way she would have walked on the streets, seeking him, trying not to let her nervousness show.

"That was my fault." he reminded her. "If you were shot at. They were trying to get me, not you. And I can have your house protected by sentries."

"That would make it worse. The army is doing all it can, I can tell as much, but their guerrillas tactics aren't making them an easy target. If someone would rise up to claim all those fires and bombings, you would have something."

"But if we make a clear stand ourselves, the population might turn on us. It's true that living in a military state can be frightening, but…"

She shook her head.

"I'm not always worried. Seeing you so down yesterday… Knowing that the very institution supposed to protect us would hurt her own soldiers…"

It had been a mistake to come to her.

"Forget it. I'm fine, Amelia. I'm fine and I'll make sure you get through this ordeal unscathed, both you and your aunt."

"You can't make such a promise. You shouldn't promise me anything."

"Why?"

"We're not free, not even here. You're bound to the military, to your goal and I'm attached to the civil world. You will never be able to speak freely with me, to tell me whatever's on your mind. I have no right to use your connections and force more punishment on you because you have a liking to me. How fair would that be to my neighbours, to my aunt?"

She had been reading that damn book far too much to say stuff like that.

"I don't care about fair. I don't like you, I _love_ you, Amelia. I've never loved anyone. I've never had anyone. Now I have friends, but they could turn on me at any point, just to obey our superiors. You're the only one I can trust in this."

"But I can't see you at all. All the time, it's you passing by to check on me, your writing on a sheet of paper, or your strained voice on the phone. I can't come to your place unless one of your comrade call me up. And all the time my aunt keeps telling me, he'll get bored of you, he'll run as soon as he gets what he wants, don't get your hopes up, go back home if the first soldier around the corner can keep your attention for so long. But you're not any soldier, I don't want to think of you as a soldier, I…"

She swallowed, blinking, shaking her head, looking so lost and so filled with doubt. It was the first time she'd lost her bearings in front of him. He'd seen her scared or tense, but even yesterday, when they were fleeing for their life, she had kept her cool.

"What's wrong? What's wrong with what your aunt says? I wish we could see each other more often, always, but I don't have a home of my own, I don't have enough money or a situation. I need… We need to go through this courtship. I want to get to know you better than just letters. You were always looking after me, always worrying about me. But I'm not your brother, nor any no-good soldier looking for an easy girl."

"I know that."

"Then you have to keep in mind that I can help you too. You can lean your hardships on me. Isn't it part of being a couple? You can trust me."

"And I do."

Her hands had slipped into his and her tears were close to fall but still filling her eyes, not slipping past her eyelids.

"Then let me pay for the lost clients and close the doors of the hotel for the time being."

"I can't depend entirely on you." she protested.

"So you'd risk your aunt's and your own safety for pride?"

"Why not? You're risking your life for a pay check, technically."

She blinked her tears away, a small smile growing on her face.

"That's a cheap shot. And you know it's not true."

"I may be scared, but it doesn't mean that I'll give up so easily. As long as no one knows I'm being courted by a military man, I should be fine."

He sighed, understanding that she was joking now.

"Don't say it like that. The courting hasn't even start. I still need to take you out someplace instead of sleeping in your bed as some teenager."

"I guess you're right…"

She tried to smile, but the tears kept coming out.

"Stop holding everything back. You're always telling me to let stuff out myself."

"I know. I know. But my aunt will be waiting and…"

"Let her wait. Tell me what's wrong."

"I just told you… But I hate to cry."

"So it's fine if a wounded soldier do so, but it's wrong for a lady?"

Her tears overcame her voice and sobs make her body heave as he welcomed her in his arms, sorry to be the principal cause for her crying. It seemed fine and fair that he would support her after all she did for him. She whispered apologies for being so easily overcome and he comforted her, laughing at her excuses and reminded her that it wasn't wrong. When most of the sobs had died down, his shirt was damped with her tears and her face was red.

"Thank you, King. I guess I was stressed out from yesterday."

"I wouldn't blame you."

She smiled.

"I must look awful."

"Then I guess we're perfectly fit for each other, cause I've looked better before."

A stroke of her hand on his jaw, swift and gentle against his bruises tried to tell him otherwise. He leaned in for a kiss, and was welcomed by her hands in his hair. There were less bumps on his skull and he felt a fire growing in his chests, though kissing her with more passion was highly inappropriate. But he did anyway, until she moaned and pushed him back, which had him winced in answer. He had bruises and cuts that still needed to be healed.

"What's wrong?"

"That's over the edge." she retorted, one hand on her stomach.

She was still afraid from the assault on her aunt and Bradley guessed he would have to take time.

"Did I hurt you?" he insisted.

"No, it's just…"

As he held her to him, she blushed and he understood.

"Kissing you makes me nervous too, you know."

She half smiled, biting her lower lip.

"And you just said you wanted to act unlike teenagers."

They laughed together at that, tears forgotten but still too close for comfort.

To be continued...

 


	16. Sealed lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was no way of preventing it. Now all that was left was doubts. And longing.

Chapter 16 - Sealed lips

Bradley was trying to drown himself. It had been three weeks. The fights were bad for the city, but there wasn't much blood for Father's crest and the other homonculi were thinking about quickly ending this guerrilla civil war to start up some chaos somewhere else. It wasn't Central's final hour yet. Amelia hadn't called or write and he hadn't had the chance to reach her in any way. His wounds were healed, replaced with new ones. Juliett was stuck in the hospital, refugee's camps were growing in the larger buildings of the city that were still standing and the whole city was blocked. Nobody could enter or leave. The culprits would pay.

Bradley wished he could just drown in the shower. Losing consciousness for a few minutes, to wash away the pictures burned in his mind. But he could hold down his breath quite a long time. After half an hour, insistent knocks on the door invited him to get out. His scarred eye ached in its socket. His skin felt too damp. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. His few left souls were yelling in his mind. They had suffered enough already.

King barely talked to his friends. He needed this whole mess to end. He needed something in his life to start being normal for real. Shuffling in his bed, he saw burned flesh, crumbled walls and crying children calling for lost parents. At some point, the visions turned into nightmare and he was the child, calling out for some real father or mother. They had to be somewhere. Something different. Was he defective? What was the reason for him to find himself in that laboratory with the other kids? Was he from another country? From some burned orphanage forgotten 24 years ago? While awake, he kept those questions away. No use asking himself. No use losing his mind over it. He had to remain sane and sound. He had to keep his goal, _his_ goal in mind. Forget the farce behind it. But…

The dreams remained, hunting. A small boy, barely a toddler, walking among rubble, carrying a toy sword. Messy dark hair hanging over green eyes that were void of purpose. A puppet waiting for his strings.

"There's no true freedom in this world" Bradley tried to make it sound real. For his fate to seem less appalling.

But the boy grew up, running in the rubble, his eyes wild, his voice clear and loud in the smoke coming from wounded houses and streets. And he was looking. The sword he carried was turning into steel. It cut through his skin. His bones were cold in his burning, feverish flesh. The boy was searching, looking for the family he certainly had. There was no name to call out. There was no home to turn to, not even a church step in this country of non-believers. Where had he been left? When had he been cast away, to live apart from humans? Had he even been given birth normally? He could picture horrible scenes, butchery from the wars, tortures inflicted on the women to make the man suffer more before their own death.

And the boy grew up, bleeding and searching, his eyes shining with fear of never finding. Bradley woke with dark bags under his eyes. He moved faster than ever and for each life he took on the battlefield, there was one more dark street in his dream and one less soul in his heart. He fought to keep his own self, the real boy, who had learned and strived for excellence and domination. The boy who refused to stay down, to be beaten, who destroyed the others in order to remain alive. The boy who first took a life without a real notion of death, and who had been so shocked to see blood. To learn he was disposable. That they were all disposable. Having friends today was a masquerade, wasn't it? Wouldn't they turn on him? The military wasn't that far from his old home, the laboratories and classes.

The kid turned into a young man, angry for the questions in his heart that hadn't been there before, when there were walls surrounding his existence. The blown up buildings were opening his mind, giving his thoughts wings.

What if I had been closer to the wall when it was blown? I would be dead. What goes on then? What's the point? Why can't I chose my own purpose? Are parents supposed to give you one? Is it why? Why they left? Did they died? Were they killed? Was I an accident? A burden? A pile of flesh, left to die on the street and adopted by gold tooth? Or was I planned? Carefully bred, like a dog or a horse, to be snatched away from a mother who couldn't care less about me?

Sometimes, Bradley was staring at the ceiling, invaded by those thoughts that threatened to drive him over the edge. He was this close from going through the scientists files. They had to have files over him and the other perspective furher. They had to know. Someone had to know. But what would it change to know? Why wonder over it now? Because he saw kids losing their own past in front of his very eyes? Because the only thing he could give them was a place in the army, in the future. Because one woman had been clutching at his uniform, begging him to bring back her husband, who had been crushed underneath their own house? He had been through such thing before, during the war. He had kept all the questions away. He worried about other stuff. But his trust in his own goal was shaken. He wanted to bend the rule somewhere. To prove to himself he could be stronger than Father and the others thought he was.

If he gave up in fear of them, there was no glory to his acts. No pride to take. No true anger. And he was pure, lethal wrath. Contained, always, never openly taking pleasure in making his enemies suffer. He'd do it later, when he'd be Fuhrer. Oh, he would play the soldiers like pawns. But would he remain that boy in his dreams, looking for his roots?

King sighed, sitting up in his bed, both of his eyes opened and uncovered. Everyone else was sleeping in the barracks. Fire was burning outside. Sirens crying out. People yelling. He would be asked to move out soon. He looked through the window, trying to close his other senses. Not to hear. Not to see the pictures behind his eyelids. They were all etched into his soul. The moon was shining through the clouds, bright and full. He felt his anger, burning in his veins. Pumping in his heart. Making him lose his breathe.

"It's not enough." he sighed as he unsheathed one of his blades and looked at the moon reflection on its edge. "It might never be enough."

He wondered. Did he need more deaths? Because it was the only promise he had. Except for Amelia, who made it a little more bearable. He wouldn't run to her this time though. Not before a few years would he break down in front of her again. He'd see her when he'd feel fine as rain. If it took him months to reach that state, so be it.

…

"I today declare the civil war over."

Bradley was standing in the middle of the ranks, second row. His full uniform was on, despite the heat of summer. Winter and spring had went by. He'd seen Amelia once, when he'd inspected the refugees camp her aunt and the young woman had made. She had stared at him as if she'd never seen him before while he delivered the result of his inspection. Then she had yelled at him in front of everyone, as he'd carelessly raised her in his arms, smiling before her anger. She had melted into his arms, even though she'd wished he'd show up sooner or more often. Bradley didn't know which of them he was testing. He'd told her he would be out on assignments many time and that she would be waiting for him most of their life if she wanted them to be together. He was supposed to take her out that very night. He could still see her eyes and hear her voice as she'd answered his declaration

_"I'll wait for you, big fool. But you'd better make it worth it."_

Her aunt had looked scandalized and the guys had laughed and cheered as Bradley casually stole a kiss from his girlfriend, not caring for prudence or civil war anymore. He missed her. Every day, he missed her. But as he controlled his anger, he controlled his eagerness too. Even though it wasn't easy, he carefully controlled all of his emotions. Letting wrath into every of them.

"You've done an impeccable work in the latest weeks and the rebuilt effort is well along."

Bradley twitched his neck to be able to see the clock. Time was going by so slowly now that peace was back in Central. His date with Amelia wasn't before five more hours. His patience was wearing thin already. He shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. Blinking at the clock didn't make it go any faster. Staring at his general drove him close to madness, because that was his place the fool was standing on. One day, he'd pull all their strings. Oh, it would be hard to wait for it. But worth it? He smiled to himself. He'd make it worth it.

…

"So remember, you don't kiss her until you've reached the end of the date."

"What?!"

"There's an implicit procedure for this kind of things."

"I might sound old school, but I don't have to follow a procedure. I mean… it's a date."

"So you think you can just go with the flow, unprepared? This is where it counts!"

Grumman was taking Bradley's love life a little too seriously to the young man's taste.

"I thought it counted from day one."

"It did, but the first official date is important. Especially when it's postponed like that."

"Eli, you're cranking up the poor guy with your old sense of fashion. Dates are up to the people living them. You wanna knock her up, you just go for it, Brad. Chances are to be taken."

Kimblee sounded creepier than ever with his wide smile. His wife had certainly been terrible with him the last night. His mood highly depended on the welfare of his couple. More than that of Grumman or some other guys Bradley worked with. Juliett was sitting at her desk, trying to focus as the men argued. She sighed helplessly after a few more exchanges between the guys.

"Would you mind letting him off the hook? Don't listen to a thing they say, King. They're both wrong. The one and only rule for this kind of thing is to be yourself."

 _That would truly help if my self was a simple notion_ , the man-made homonculus thought.

…

It was precisely six o'clock when Bradley rung the bell at the counter. Amelia, like a perfect lady, was getting late. So the young man was opposed to his potentially future aunt, who scrutinized him with eyes that felt like laser beams. Or well, alchemic electric beams. Bradley stood proud and tall, refusing to let it show how much the whole situation was unnerving for him. Even if he had already went out to walk around with Amelia, they had never been on any official date. Grumman had managed to convince him that the human courtship was a hazardous minefield, where your very life was on the line and worst of all, your dignity!

 _Being a military dog, I wonder if I have any dignity left_ , Bradley thought.

But he could always make himself believe he had some when he'd become fuhrer. That day seemed way too far for him, but as Amelia interrupted her aunt heated monologue on when they should return and why a soldier wasn't fit for her niece and why the whole civil "war" had been far too long, he realized he wanted to live in the present, never mind his low rank.

For a rare time, Amelia's hair was undone, gently framing her face. She was wearing a green dress underneath a long coat that showed some wear but looked quite good on her frame. A small touch of makeup added on her charms, a bit of green on her eyes, her cheeks slightly pink. She seemed more feminine than usual, but not less outgoing.

"Sorry for making the both of you wait. He knows you can't stand him, aunt Ella, you don't have to be so…"

"I can stand him. My beliefs cannot, it's a different matter!"

A small smile grew on Bradley's face but Amelia quickly turned him away from her aunt, silently suggesting that they make their exit.

"You two won't be out for too long, won't you?"

"Not later than midnight!" Amelia retorted, hugging onto Bradley's arm.

She felt so real, so close, and for a moment he could think that he was sated with just her very presence. But as the door closed behind them and as the young woman laughed in his ears, he knew he could never be sated. His souls sighed inwardly, amazed and delighted by the genuine feelings their homonculus was sharing with them.

"Won't you greet me with something else than those sparkles in your eye?"

"I had no word. And no place to speak with your aunt in the way."

"Such an easy defeat. Where are you taking me?"

She sounded like a little girl and his smile grew wider.

"You'll see soon enough. But…"

He stopped in his track, forcing her to halt next to him, her arm still wrapped underneath his.

"Is something wrong?"

He turned to look at her, his shoulders dropping slightly and her face turned full of concerns.

"I've missed you, you know?"

She blushed at his honesty and batted her eyelashes in her playful way.

"It's your own fault, Brad. You keep giving me warnings and trying to ward me off."

"I know. I want to make amends tonight. But someone told me I shouldn't kiss you before the end of the date."

He tried to sound as playful as her, not to show that he was a little nervous. She made it easy for him, snuggling closer to him, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"As long as this kiss stays proper, I don't see any trouble with bending a few rules of courtship."

Her fingers slipped through his locks as he bent his neck to reach her lips in a soft kiss that soon turned tender. She tasted something sweet and he would have to remove a few lipsticks marks afterwards but heck had this day been too long before he finally got her in his arms!

The date went on smoothly. A bottle of wine was opened, because Grumman's advices demanded it. The restaurant was nice and the food perfect. Juliett had suggested the place to Brad and he wasn't disappointed. But the best thing about this night was being able to be around Amelia.

They talked about simple things, the streets that had become safe again, the people from their refugee camp that came back to visit or eat in their little hotel. The business was looking good again. Bradley gave news from his squad to Amelia. She had taken a liking to the military stories he could tell. Everything was going quite well until Lust showed up in the restaurant. She was accompanied by a young man that blinked at Wrath wickedly. King tried to remain quiet, but his face turned a few shades paler. The hand resting on his leg turned into a fist. The magic was broken and small talk seemed impossible, with his souls worrying just as fast as his imagination could. Which was too fast. The homunculi wasted no time in walking up to them.

“Hey, King, what a surprise!”

The shape shifter dressed like a soldier had his trademark over-large smile as he clapped his hands on their table, making Amelia jumped slightly. Lust stood right behind him, a warm grin over her face. It felt really wrong to Bradley.

“Oscar, how have you been?”

His voice was colder than ice. The poor human sitting in front of him looked taken aback. She knew no Oscar from any of his military tales.

“Good, good. But who’s your pretty lady friend, King, you rascal!”

Lust’s smile turned wider and dark shadows itched themselves on her skin. Bradley could almost see her nails turning into blades. She was standing right next to Amelia. He knew Envy could kill her with a simple kitchen knife. His voice got stuck in his throat as his eye shot glares at both of them.

Bradley knew that they already knew her. But to see them so close to her. In the same room as her. The very thing he’d never want to see happening. What was going on ? He hadn’t done anything bad for Father’s plan, had he?

“You won’t introduce us?”

Before that Amelia could intervene, as she was hesitating, clearly seeing her “official boyfriend” anxiety, he retorted in a muffled bark:

“The timing’s not good. Say what you want from me and get out of my sight.”

“Brad!” she protested.

That was just too rude, even for him!

But Envy laughed it off, Lust looking flustered, which was quite a sight actually. Such acting skill.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your date. Just checking up with you. General Heim was looking for you yesterday, you know.”

That was a codename for Father and Bradley had to use all of his willpower not to jump on his feet and draw out the closest weapon he could find.

“I’ve heard so. I’ll get in touch with him tomorrow if I can.”

“That’s good. We’ll let him know. Guess it’s goodbyes now.

Lust exchanged a gentle look with Amelia, who nod her head, reduced to silence by this awkward exchange. Envy and Lust than went to talk to the restaurant manager and were conducted to a back-door place where VIP tables were kept away from prying ears. Bradley couldn’t focus his attention back on Amelia until that they were both out of sight. She didn’t wait for him to turn back towards her, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What was the meaning of all this?”

“Those weren’t … friends.”

“I got that. You’re all tensed again. What’s going on?”

She looked anxious now and he sighed. This whole thing was going downhill.

“There are some things going on in the army. Tensions. Exchange of powers. You know, politics and stuff.”

“And why would a sergeant be in the midst of such schemes?”

“Who talked about schemes?! I didn’t use that word.”

His tone was playful now, as if to tell her it wasn’t that big of a deal, but they were both whispering, as if they were worried someone could be listening in on them. Bradley couldn’t even tell which one of them started whispering or when. All he knew was that she would be worried about him. And that this might be a threat for her.

“King, please! You can’t keep me in the dark!”

“It’s for your own good, Amelia.”

Lying was no good. But lying was his only option. The only thing good for her would be to go to a foreign country far from Amestris and far from him and the rest of his kind of man-made human.

“How can you say stuff like that! As if you could die even now, when there’s no war going on, nothing…”

Her voice raised but remained too low for other people to hear it. Though now, it was clear that she was hurt. Couldn’t he trust her? Was she such a simple little woman that she couldn’t hold her tongue if he told her some army secret? Why was he always putting himself in danger?

“Calm down, Amelia, it’s not like that. I’m just…”

“You’re not going to tell anything to me are you? You had that look on your face when they walked in, the same look you had on the roof when people where firing at us.”

He frowned at that, hoping she was giving him a way out.

“What look?”

“Your warrior look. That goes with your royal name.”

Now she was pissed at him. She pushed her dessert plate aside, leaving the cake half-finished. He opened his mouth to reply, but she was faster.

“I know that you will leave me in the dark on many things. I know that might leave for a bunch of months without sending more than two letters to me and that I’m supposed to be content with that. But I don’t like being taken for a fool, Brad.”

“I’m not…”

“Listen to me!” she cut him, efficiently shutting him up.

 _How dare she talked to you like that_ , some of his souls warned him. He was too lenient with the woman. He was a superior being. He was also protecting her. She should be grateful for his very attention. But he was lying. And behind her anger, she most certainly was scared, for both of them.

“Don’t pretend I can’t understand what’s going on.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on, Amelia. I sincerely don’t know a thing. The army’s big, the soldiers many and I’m one guy with a goal that’s too big for his own might. I’m playing around with fire. I don’t want you to get burned.”

“Talking in riddles, that’s almost poetic.”

She wasn’t ready to let it go.

“Come on, give me a chance. This is not the place to…”

“Then let’s go somewhere else.”

He complied and they found themselves walking on the cold streets a few minute later. It was about nine o’clock and the moon was hanging in the sky, her crescent form bathing the pavements with her light. This part of the city was still rebuilding some of its road lights.

Amelia had accepted to follow him. But she wasn’t talking to him. She was waiting for them to be in the right place. A few meters away from the restaurant, Bradley let out a deep sigh and told her:

“This wasn’t how I had expected this night to be. I wanted to be able to talk with you, just to watch you smile and…”

“I’m not gone, King. It can still happen. But first I need to know why you were acting as if a soldier in the middle of a minefield. Do you already have so many enemies in the army?”

Bradley looked over his shoulder, barely moving his neck as he did, being his vigilante self.

“I told you already that I would make enemies. Becoming Fuhrer won’t make everyone around me happy.”

“But does that means you have to be harsh and untrusting with everyone?”

“Everyone except you. And the answer to that question is no. I do trust people.”

The lie barely burned his throat, but his heart was aching in his chest. They were reaching the park where he liked to take her. Nature was soothing in his own way and Amelia always seemed calmer around here. The trees were lacking leaves, but the scenery felt more peaceful then the dark streets. The moonlight made her face look surreal. She smiled thinly at his comment.

“Your life sounds so lonely, Bradley.”

“It’s focused on my goal, Amelia. And right now, I don’t have to be alone.”

“But you won’t tell me anything more. For my own good.”

He felt bad, but things were bound to get worse than that in the future. He had to take the risk before to lead her on for nothing. She had let go of his arms and he was worried that she could walk farther away.

“I’ll be frank.”

“As always.” She said, another smile on her face, but it felt cold.

“That’s how it is. How it’s always going to be. I can’t tell you everything that’s going on in my life, because being in the military is dangerous. I don’t want you to try and join. I want you to stay just as you are. Who you are. So that you can support me. So that I can let my guard off sometimes. If you can’t take something like this, we’ll never work out, because I won’t give up on my goal. I won’t try to have a safer life. But I want you to be safe, at least.”

His voice didn’t waver on any word. They were staring at each other, their eyes locked together. Amelia was deep in thoughts and his mind was filling up with fears.

“If you want to walk away now…”

This time, his voice trembled and he looked away, angry at himself. Angry at the other homunculi for ruining this night that had started perfectly. He had been waiting for this for months! How could he remain sane without her picture in his mind, her voice calling his name or the idea that he would be able to meet with her every now and then? He needed her.

“I thought I signed up for more than one date,” she retorted.

His eye widened and she grabbed his right arm, pulling him towards her.

“And I could tell that Oscar was a creep just by his smile. But it doesn’t mean that I should be kept in the dark about everything. Even if you can’t tell me everything.”

He blinked, slightly unsure. One moment she was mad and now…

“Can’t you make up your mind?!”

“You think I’d give up on you that easily?”

Bradley managed a smile at that. It was quite fragile and she sighed, wrapping her arms around him. He pulled her in an embrace as she whispered:

“The man who dreams of becoming Fuhrer can be so unsure about himself.”

“I’m working on it, woman. Try to picture what you’d done if your aunt had barged in the restaurant and clapped on our table.”

She laughed it off, trying to reassure herself. Not knowing was hard for her. But it was what he asked and he seemed so sincere. He had let her through many of his defenses already. One day, he might tell her everything. And as he simply held her in his arms, she could tell how welcome and secure it felt there. If she could stay that way forever, she would.

“I’ll support you.” She promised.

All in all, that was a more conclusive date than Bradley could have expected, even if he wished this question hadn’t be asked so soon. And though holding a now calm and friendly Amelia in his arms was quite comforting, he couldn’t forget Envy’s words. Father was expecting him. Bad news were coming. And it might very well concern her. He might have done a better thing for her to push her away. But in his greed, he couldn’t. Not until he made sure something really terrible might happen to her. And he wouldn’t let it take place. Nobody would take her from him. He had chosen her. And she accepted him. At least, for now…

To be continued…


	17. Trial and "womanization"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley finds himself forced to reveal things to Amelia.

I chose you

Chapter 17 – Trial and “womanization”

“What the heck was that about? Have you no respect for your older brother?!”

Envy was raving mad but Bradley didn’t really worried about his so-called brother. He was more worried of the news Father had in store for him.

The blond man was sitting in his throne, still plugged to many tubes and other things. It felt weird, as if that body of his couldn’t sustain itself. Bradley wished it was true. But Father had no flaw and if he did, he would need far more time to learn about them.

“I thought we had been clear that you had to try at least to show some interest to the wives that were selected for you.”

“And I thought my choice was already made.”

“I remember the nice argument you gave for your country girl, Wrath. But I also have to warn you, you shouldn’t close your eyes on all the options that are in front of you. I’m not the one who will have to play the family man, that’s going to be you.”

King felt angered even more by this remark. Of course, he would be playing his part.

“But all the more reason for…”

“I didn’t have them create a weak son for me, did I, Wrath? You seem… quite attached to that human girl.”

Bradley crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was not walking into that trap. Oh no. Lust nodded to him, as if to say his guarded reaction was the right one. But then, her smile flashed in the dark and he felt a shiver running down his spine and it was suddenly hard to stand tall in front of Father.

“If you’re too happy, you could forget your task.”

“I’m not forgetting anything, Father. I’ll follow every order.”

Hohenheim’s clone smiled his wicked smile, the one Envy was so good at having.

“Really now? Every order? What if I asked you to kill her?”

Bradley didn’t flinch. He had stilled himself, but one of his left souls died on the spot. The idea was too blunt. He could almost picture it and it hurt. It would be too easy.

“Though I don’t see what you’d get from it, if it’s what you ask…”

“Good boy. I’ll let you keep your toy. But you’re meeting a few perspective wives. We’re coming out in the open in many circles lately and you must choose our allies carefully.”

“I’ll do the choosing?”

“While keeping in mind my instructions. You should receive them soon enough. But keep in mind. If you don’t pay attention to any perspective wife, I’ll have your distraction removed.”

Bradley knew better than to complain. Father wanted him to play his part, he wasn’t asking him to choose from one of the perspective wives. But it still felt quite unfair. On one hand, he seemed to trust him to reveal their secret to a few selected candidates that would prove to be allies in the long run. They wouldn’t be told before that King was higher in the army and every homunculus would have their word in choosing them, well except Greed, Sloth and Glutonny, who were either too rebellious or lazy or stupid to voice an opinion worth their interest. On the other hand, he disregarded his interest for Amelia as a weakness and was clearly implying that he could have her killed off.

If Bradley had any options of getting himself out of this situation, he would have taken it. Right now, he felt so stuck. It was as if all the steps he could take were already traced down for him, on a thin line and he just had to stay in line. If he strayed for the path designed for him…

_I’ll be risking her very life…_

This couldn’t happen. But he couldn’t forfeit her either.

“I’ll meet them. But I can be quite obstinate. Blame it on that human body you gave me.”

Envy was clearly pissed at his way of answering but Father smiled it off.

…

The nerve of that dreadful thing! King was so angry he didn’t remember the last time he’d been just as mad. He needed more power and stability in his life. A promotion would do him some good, making him believe he was going forward and not backward. Another date with Amelia was out of the question for now, but he did write to her. Golden tooth announced him that a ball would be happening to celebrate with the higher society the official end of the civil war. And that was the occasion for him to appear as an interesting suitor.

_Damn them all!_

Grumman was excited because most of the military could assist the occasion. He even suggested that Bradley invited Amelia to the ball. It wasn’t entirely out of question, Kimblee was bringing his wife for example, which was rare. He never seemed to let her out of their house! But the situation was far too perilous for the future Fuhrer.

…

When Bradley had red about Amelia’s aunt being sick and forced to close their business for an undetermined time, he should have known that it meant the young woman would immediately look around for a job to help her family in sustaining itself. The recovery of her aunt didn’t seem close and she had little choice unless she’d wait to see their small economy disappear. Amelia didn’t wait when something could be done. He should have known that she wouldn’t want him to worry and wouldn’t say what was exactly going on.

When Bradley had heard from Juliett that some maids had been trained by military men to make sure the banquet would go fine and the reception would be a success, he should have asked her why she mentioned it. It wasn’t something new, the military was always hiring all the people it needed, especially for those occasion. Soldiers couldn’t be suddenly asked to work as maids. Well, so he thought, but some lower officers were among the small personnel.

All this to say that King wasn’t prepared for the night of the ball, which was supposed to be an unpleasant occasion to exchange greetings and nice words with women he’d never seen and would never see again. He had already decided what would happen. He just had to work a few things out.

…

The reception was taking place in the Armstrong’s house, which was by far the biggest civilian residence in Central and could house at least three different balls at the same time. The first ball room had been decorated all day by a swarm of maids and butlers, with flowers, white drapes and the army symbols were hanging on every wall. The candelabras on the ceiling were shining bright, giving an intimate feel to the gigantic room. Music was being played by a small band of musician. Tables against the walls were filled with food and servants were walking between the guests to offer them some drinks and hors-d’oeuvres. Bradley was wearing a black version of his uniform, like every other soldiers out tonight. The Fuhrer had demanded the change since he was still mourning his departed daughter.

The young man felt really out of place. He was perfectly shaved, his eye-patch was brand new and itched on his skin, the uniform felt too tight, as if the scientists hadn’t made it on the right measurement or made a mistake when they washed the fabric. His shoes were too shiny for his own taste. Everything about his appearance was perfect, as it was asked from him. The only color in the room was from the dresses of the women. Every dress had been intricately conceived to look richer than the other. And right now he was surrounded by a freaking rainbow of those dresses with their owner giggling around him. Brown hair, black hair, red and purple lips curving into smiles as they admired his allure.

He was trying to smile too and rediscovering what a great actor he could be. They all seemed pleased to be around him. He made simple jokes, listened to each of their complaints and remarks about the civil war in turn, didn’t mentioning many thing about the killings and the heartache he had witnessed or commit. Bradley was important tonight as the man who had managed to get half of the rebels to join the army all by himself. He had been decorated for it with a medal. That made him some kind of hero of this civil war, exactly what he wanted in fact, for the future. But not for the attention that was getting him tonight.

One of the woman pushed her luck to graze his arm with her fingers. It was clearly made on purpose, even though she blushed, but that was enough to bring him off the track. He flinched a little too violently before that she apologized profusely. He wasn’t ready to see his personal space invaded like that. King needed them to keep their distances. He was already letting everyone close enough.

“Oh, I heard the first dance should start soon! Are you a good dancer, King?”

Hearing his name on another voice than Amelia’s was weird. He realized he might need to be around more different woman. He felt like some kind of cavemen. But he didn’t want to feel at ease around anyone else but her. He could have least have that to himself, couldn’t he?

“I manage.”

“What kind of answer is that?” they laughed together.

Those girls would be the end of him.

“Who will have the honor of testing your dancing skills?”

Now he had to invite one of them. He should have kept his mouth shut.

“I don’t know. Which one of you feel brave tonight?” he asked as playfully as he could.

His heart wasn’t into it, but his question created a few sparkles in two or three pairs of eyes. The most brazen of the girl, the one who had grazed his arm took one step forward.

“If you put it like that, I’ll take the first dance.”

“But you must dance with every one of us, King!” another of them added quickly, disappointed to have been beaten to the punch.

“Sure.” He whispering, swearing mentally. He was their entertainment for the night, since their respective father or mother had told them he would choose one of her as a wife and might become quite the influence around this country.

His dance partner guided him to the center of the room, where the dancing would take place without annoying the other guests. It was some kind of waltz and Bradley had learned it in the last three days, with Grumman for a partner and Juliett as their instructor. She wasn’t up to dance herself, feeling a little off lately. As he spotted her in the room, wearing a navy blue dress, he observed that her face was a little green. She wasn’t all that well. He wondered what could be happening to her. What if some sort of illness was invading the whole town slowly?

“Where are you, King?”

He had started dancing mechanically, barely looking at his partner.

“Oh.” He faked confusion for the sake of good appearances. “I was just… worrying about a friend of mine.”

“Is it a good connection?”

He frowned at her question, looking down at their feet to make sure he wasn’t messing the steps. Even though it wasn’t pleasant to dance with the woman, he had to put on a good show. And if he was supposed to be perfect, he would play his part.

“I mean, how does this friendship serves you? You won’t become much if you…”

“I know how those things works.” He cut her off with a harsh tone.

She blinked and her blond curls twirled as he spun her around.

“I didn’t mean…”

He spun her around another time, making her dizzy and preventing her from talking. The waltz ended a few seconds later and he was free to take another dance partner, which would hopefully mind her own business. The next girl was shy and almost cute, though she was wearing a yellow gown that attacked his eye. The color would have suited her if it had been just a shade lighter.

“You must be glad this war is over.”

“There’s always another one, don’t worry.”

That cut the conversation short. The dancing was mechanic and he didn’t spun many other girl around. One of them made him laugh as she turned around, her short hair reminding him of Eli’s face as they’d been practicing. Juliett had insisted that Grumman played the girl, since Bradley needed more experience than him. It had been a funny exercise, though the contact was awkward. Grumman was pulling such faces and Bradley mustn’t have been quite better. They did drink between every few steps to feel more “festive” as Eli would say. The girl asked if he was laughing at her and he reassured her. Telling her she reminded him of a guy would have been a little ungentlemanly. Every other women from the group thought she was his final choice, since she had gotten a genuine smile out of him, something no one else did tonight.

There was still one girl he was supposed to dance with but the music stopped and he excused himself, needing a break. Those steps weren’t that hard, but nine different dull partners in a row was no small feat. He needed to catch some air. Or a drink. His last partner was a member of the Armstrong family and had quite a strong built, for a female. He called out a maid that was passing by with a tray. She was walking so fast she might have been running. Her shoes were spotless and she wore the same outfit as the other maid, but something about the way she moved made Bradley anxious. It wasn’t normal. But he needed this drink. He called a little louder to catch her attention. And it worked. Her brown hair reminded him of someone familiar but as she turned around to face him, a smile plastered on her face, her green eyes brimming with held back tears, his heart stopped.

“What would you like, mister?” she politely asked, offering him her tray.

Amelia’s voice was a mere whisper, but he could see the hurt in her face and her eyes. She must have seen him dancing with the girls. They were still all around him. The brazen one pulled on his sleeve and he saw Amelia flinching at the sight. She was supposed to be here, but…

“King, would you order something for us?” the girl asked.

The tray Amelia was holding started trembling as she waited for Bradley to voice his order. His mind was still trying to process the disaster unfolding in front of him. He could almost picture what she must be thinking in her head. This was just like her damn book. While they had always been equal, now she was dressed as a maid, offering her services and he was the rich guy asking for drinks. The more he waited, the greater the risk for the girls to notice what was going on and mess around with Amelia. He wouldn’t put it pass them. But he couldn’t act as if he hadn’t recognized her. He couldn’t invent himself a twin to make things look better, that would be preposterous. He was going to lose her before to even have her for real at this rate!

“Ame…”

“If you don’t need my services, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”

Her shoulders had dropped slightly. How come he couldn’t even say a word? How come he didn’t told her he would be at this ball dancing with anything wearing a nice dress, even laughing with them?

“Actually, I’d like a martini. Do you have one?” the brazen girl asked, oblivious to the situation, or at least, pretending to be.

“I’ll come back with one right away, madam.”

She curtsied like she had been instructed to and turned her back on them, making her exit. Bradley stood back for a whole five seconds, his thoughts a mess and his souls panicking in his mind. He should go after her. Waiting was just going to kill the poor courtship he had vowed to undertake with her. He’d never wanted to be here in the first place and now… She wouldn’t be coming back would she? She could send someone else. If he let her get out of his sight now, it would be over.

His heart was beating madly in his chest. The threats were forgotten for an instant and even his wrath vanished for an instant, replaced by fear. He couldn’t lose her like that. It would be worse.

He didn’t look at the women around him as he excused himself and almost sprinted after Amelia. His eye was fixed on her small back and it was ability alone that permitted him to walk around all the people and not right into them. Just as she disappeared behind a door, a hand fell on his arms, fiercely pulling him to a halt. One look told him Lust was here to deliver him a message.

“Take good note of this Bradley. The human heart is easily swayed. Jealousy, distrust. They embody each of the sins we are. You need someone who will believe you no matter what, someone that will not endanger Father’s plans. If she cannot be it, you better learn it now than later.”

Wrath pushed her aside angrily. His mind was set on one single thing. Going through that door and after Amelia. What he would tell her, he still didn’t know. If there was a way to fix this mess, he’d have to find it. He had no idea what she had witnessed, but for her to be in this state, it had to be way too much. A man courting a woman wasn’t supposed to be dancing and laughing with other ladies in a ball while the one he was supposedly interested in was serving drinks. It looked like some nasty twist taken from a bad novel. Grumman was so going to tell him that such mistakes were unfixable.

Beneath the door where she’d disappeared was a small kitchen with people working over everything. He was almost run over by a boy pushing a small cart of refills and had to hold the door for him. He desperately looked around, but Amelia was already gone.

“Can I help you, sir?” a tall and chubby woman asked him, her chef’s hat making her the ruler of this kitchen.

“I’m looking for one of the maids that was working for you tonight. Her hair is in a braid and she’s…”

The woman big brows frowned and her eyes turned cold.

“No that sweet girl that came in here crying? What was her name again…Corsin?”

“Corsaire.” He corrected.

The chef eyed him doubtfully. Was he the reason for her tears?

“You’re not going to hurt her, are you, soldier?”

“I need to know where she went.”

His voice wasn’t as commanding as he’d willed it. Wrath was close to panic. He could face confusion on the battlefield and cold steel in his flesh. Give him ten men to kill, a hundred of them, he wouldn’t mind. But thinking Amelia could refuse to have him around because of this misunderstanding.

“She’s gone through the backdoor. She’s been working for half of the night already, so I’m still paying her, you have nothing to say about that.”

He didn’t answer, making it through the kitchen and out through the backdoor in mere seconds. He needed to catch up with her. He sure hoped that nothing else would slow him down in his pursue. The court was far too big, but he noticed a red wine coat in the distance, almost making it through the ornamented gates of steel. The sky above his head was filled with cloud and it started to rain, making the stones slippery beneath his feet. Those shoes weren’t comfortable to run in. Nothing to do with his usual uniform. Thunder roared in the distance as he reached the gate. Amelia was on the other side of the streets, walking as fast as she could in the rain. She was holding down a hat on her hand, one that belonged to her aunt, because they hadn’t enough money to own more than one hat. The times weren’t easy. Bradley knew it. She would have own more books if she had idle money to spend. Right now, she was certainly mortified.

“Amelia!”

He hated having to call out to her. He was worried that would made her run again. Not that he couldn’t catch up to her. King knew he was a faster runner. But thinking of her running away from him… The feelings from the night where he had suggested that she walked away from him were vivid in his heart. The fear of losing her felt worse than hearing any threat from Father. Who else would comfort him or make him smile for real? Who else could support him in his mad life?

She looked over her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of her red eyes and pale face. Her cheeks were flushed. She was holding back her tears and it made it harder for her to walk around. There was no one on the street thanks to the rain. Bradley was scared one of his homunculi brother could show up.

“Go away!” she yelped, holding the sides of her hat flatter over her head.

The rain was cold on his head. The drops fell in his hair and followed all the way down his nape. Each drop seemed to be coming from her eyes. And each drop hurt.

“Please, Amelia.” He caught up to her, his hand grabbing her shoulder.

“I don’t want explanations! I’ve had enough of all those secrets.”

She tried to push him away, but he had to insist. He couldn’t let her imagination run wild. He spun her around, so that she would look him in the face, holding firmly on her shoulders. She was trembling and crying, her voice shivering in the cold rain. There was anger and doubt in her face and something that made it worse to face her. Deception.

“Listen to me, Amelia. This wasn’t… Whatever you think this whole thing was…”

He was looking for his breath, looking for the right words and she shook her head, unable to believe the nerve he had.

“What was it supposed to be then? I can’t compete with girls like that! I can’t…”

“I was forced to…”

“That’s bullshit, King! I’m not that naive.”

As she talked, she tried to pry his hands of her, to no avail. He was holding her in place, so that they could have this talk. He wouldn’t give up till the right explanation came to his mind.

“I’m sorry.”

“About what?! About leading me on? About pretending that you wanted to court me? Was that all a game?”

She looked awful, her face red from crying, her breaths coming out rashly, her chest heaving and lowering too quickly, her body shivering, her hat hanging pitifully on her head, her hair already wet because the fabric was doing nothing to protect her from the rain.

“There’s no game. I was serious. I am serious. What you saw was…”

“I don’t want to know! Let me go! Let me go!”

And her crying was getting worse and the ruckus was waking people in the neighborhood. She was drumming her fists against his chest and a few men walked out of their house.

“Leave the lady alone, soldier.”

“That’s no way to treat a young woman.” Another one said, clearly ready to intervene.

Bradley felt his anger building up. This just wasn’t fair. She was his only chance. Did he have to give up on her because of Father little play? Had the other made this whole situation unfold on purpose so that they could test her determination to be with him? He remembered Lust’s words. But it couldn’t be like that.

“I need to talk to you, Amelia. Please.” He insisted, his voice as low as a murmur.

She slightly calm down, maybe only for the people walking outside of their house. She didn’t this to turn into a scene.

“Do you need help, young lady?”

“Is that guy bothering you?”

“No. No,” she whispered. “He won’t hurt me, don’t worry. It can get any worse than that.” She added only for him. But her hand on his chest wasn’t a fist anymore. She was agreeing to listen.

Central’s people accepted her reaction and got back into their house, after eyeing Bradley with grave eyes. When everyone had gotten back into their house, Amelia let out a whimper and groaned slightly.

“I can’t believe I’m going all ballistic for this. My aunt had warned me.” She said, as if to laugh at herself.

“Don’t go saying that. I’m not trying to mess around with you. My higher-ups ordered me to entertain the girls at that ball. They’re all daughters of important investors, they didn’t mean…”

“They said you were looking for a wife.”

The rain wasn’t making things easy.

“That was a lie. A make-belief. I already know who I want to spend time with, believe me.”

She shook her head. How could she believe him?!

“I wouldn’t blame you. A Fuhrer can’t be seen with just anybody. Even if you’re still nobody, you’ve turned things around during the civil war. You have a shiny medal. You’re dashing and hard at work. Perfect husband material.”

She didn’t spit the words. Her anger was so mixed with sadness she couldn’t be entirely cruel. King still looked down, feeling helpless.

“I’m sorry for showing up there. If I hadn’t been there, you could have been keeping everything in order. Those girls for high society and me to pass time in between jobs.”

“It’s not like that.” He winced.

“Then how is it? What did you mean when you asked to court me? Was it part-time? It’s the part that I missed, right?”

She started walking, slower than before, and he followed her, surprised that she wouldn’t ask him to leave her alone. She had to ask him those questions. She had to make him realize how hurt she was. And he wanted to apologize, but nothing seemed to be enough. He had a small idea, but it was madness.

“I am serious about you. If you could let me talk for a moment…”

“But you have a tendency at hiding things. And at lying to me. You said nothing interesting was happening lately and that you were bored in your letter.”

“Those girls bored me to death, Amelia. They’re superficial and…”

“Rich. Isn’t that enough to reach your goal? I could never give you status or power…”

She seemed sorry about it. She sounded almost apologetic.

“I never asked you for that!”

“Then what is it that you want from me that they can’t possible already have?!”

He didn’t answer immediately, his feelings too raw to be put into words. She was taking this a lot worse than he’d feared.

“Ame…”

“Stop saying my name like that.”

They’d reached the edge of another park, and since it felt quieter, she decided to finish their discussion there. They wouldn’t disturb anyone this way. She took refuge underneath a tree which had a very few leaves on its branches. They were both soaking wet but it was the least they could think about. The tree’s trunk

“I love you, Amelia.”

“Liar.”

“I mean it.”

“Then why were you dancing with them when you’ve never danced with me?”

She was turning her back on him, unable to hold his gaze anymore. Bradley knew he had not many options left. He was going to do another gamble to get himself out of this. He slowly removed his eye patch, not even making sure if no one was around to see his tattooed eye. The cold air on his scar wasn’t welcome. Right now, he was entirely focused on her. On the coughing and crying she was making as she tried to hold back her tears. She truly loved him. If it could still be true was now hanging in the balance. Seeing her with both of his eyes felt incredible. He could notice small things, the smallest shadows. It was painful.

“Amelia, look at me.”

“No. I thought you would be making excuses. I don’t want a kiss for an apology, I don’t want to be manipulated again.”

“Melia, I beg you. Look at me.”

He waited until she’d gathered the courage to turn around and face him. He’d never felt this scared in his life. What if she yelled in fear, what if she decided to turn tail and disappear from his life? He flinched as she gasped, meeting his uncovered eye, but didn’t look away. Her tears stopped as curiosity took over.

“What…?”

“I’m a monster Amelia. They made me one. And I’m sorry for putting you through this. Just showing you means putting your life in danger.”

She shook her head, not believing him.

“You’re no monster, Brad. It’s just… What is it? What did they do to you? Who are they?”

Her right hand reached for his face and the caress was nothing but sweet and gentle as she follow the scar on his skin, staring at his eye.

“I wasn’t burned. This whole ambition of becoming Fuhrer… It was their plan.”

“Whose plan?!”

“The guys from the orphanage. They raised me for it.”

“That’s crazy.”

“It’s real. Look at the symbol on my eye.”

It was the military lion turning into a snake. The symbols she had been setting up all day in the ballroom. She hid his tattooed eye beneath her hand, which made him sigh. She was certainly disgusted, but she wasn’t running away for now.

“It can’t be.”

“I wouldn’t get my eye tattooed like that for fun.”

“Course not. Does it… Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes.”

Was it really that easy? She wouldn’t mind more than that? He removed her hand, so that he could entirely hold her gaze. She didn’t look away. She even let him dry the tears on her face with his thumbs.

“What happened?”

“If I tell you everything, it will only get worse.”

“But why would they want you to go after those girls?”

“That’s… You named most of their reasons. I don’t have much of a choice.”

Her back was against the tree’s trunk and he was closing in on her. He wanted her arms around him. His arms around her. Her tears gone and forgotten. He wanted to put the eye patch back on and go back in the time. She would never see him as a normal man again. She was under shock, that’s why she was reacting so calmly. She would panic soon enough, wouldn’t she?

“Brad…”

Her voice sounded so small, so filled with doubts.

“Does… it scare you?”

She hesitated before to nod, ever so slightly. He gulped down.

“A bit.” She added, to make a little less wrong.

“I’m sorry. I’m too egoist to give up on you. You could be my choice in this nightmare, Amelia.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Will you stop saying nonsense? I’m always serious.”

“But you have more than one choice.”

“Not for now. So if I could still… If you still accept me to court you, knowing this…”

“That’s if I can forgive you.”

His fear showed in his green eye, but she gave him a frail smile, pulling him down in a wet kiss, tasting of salt and rain. His heart was beating madly still and she understood some of the pain he’d been carrying around. How lost he felt in a world where his life had been designed for him. _I’ve been raised for it._ She felt such compassion for him, more than ever. They parted just to breathe, Bradley gathering her in his arms, as close as she could be. Her hat had fallen back she felt cold next to him, just as he did, still soaked through. Their forehead rest against each other.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” he tentatively asked.

“For now. But I need to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“A one year courtship deal with flowers, chocolates, books, puppies and anything you could think about.”

She laughed but shook her head.

“No. I meant you, Brad. You said you were a monster.”

Darn, his breathing went uneven at that. Those words were killing him.

“Your eye wasn’t always like that?” she asked.

“No, it wasn’t. I don’t know how much you should know. I didn’t ask for it. I did what they told me. I survived it.”

“You can still see with it?”

He blinked, surprised and backed away a little while keeping her in his arms.

“I mean, you can see me?” she asked, hiding his human eye.

He was pale, pale and open, unsure. Was she accepting him, even with that thing?

“I can.”

“But it’s different.”

“I can hide it again if…”

“No! You don’t have to. We’re all alone. And it’s a part of you now, even if you didn’t ask for it.”

He looked surprised and shocked. He even had to blink a tear or two away and a shiver ran through him, clearly enough for her to see how vulnerable he was.

“Are you crying, King?”

“It’s… just the rain.” But the rain had subsided and he quickly added, looking for his countenance: “I should take you back home.”

“Shouldn’t you go back to that ball?”

He shook his head.

“The next ball I’m going, you’ll be hanging on my arm.”

“Oh, that’d be wonderful. But am I enough?”

He raised his eyes to the sky, holding back his laugh.

“I don’t deserve you, you know. You’re more than enough.”

Before that she could protest, he kissed her, pouring all his feelings in the act. His heart had rarely felt this relieved. He knew he couldn’t give up on her. His decision was made. And if this was a silly test, she passed it. Now he had to protect her as best as he could. So that he could enjoy loving her, kissing her, holding her and looking at her every day.

To be continued..


	18. Never Say Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley has to face incredible news... And takes another important decision. It seems it's all he's been doing lately!

I chose you – Chapter 18 – Never say die

Bradley escorted Amelia back to her house, having trouble believing that he had managed to turn things around. He could have stayed under that tree kissing her forever. She suggested to let him in, because he was soaked and could catch his dead, but he refused. He didn’t want to disturb her aunt. They exchanged one last kiss on the threshold. His eye patch was back and it itched on his face. Knowing that it wasn’t a wall between them anymore.

“Be safe and don’t do anything crazy.” She whispered before to close the door.

King didn’t see what he could do that would be crazier than showing her his ouroborous tattoo. Nobody could learn except from her. Now she was in danger. But she was also his. And that idea made him feel euphoric.

…

Two months passed by. Bradley had a date here and there with his girl, and the homunculi didn’t argue nor did Father made any complaint. All seemed to go well. Maybe too well. And then, Bradley realized he had missed a lot of things about his life.

“You’re resigning?!” Grumman almost yelped, holding the sheet of paper Juliett had handed to him.

“Juliett Mustang, what’s the meaning of this?!” Kimblee asked, his eyes looking darker than ever.

“I…”

She had been quite under the weather recently and it was no surprise when she admitted, her hand moving to her belly.

“I’m pregnant, guys. I think I’ve worked enough for the army and I want to take care of the family we’re going to have, Lloyd and me.”

That sentence brought back every question and aches that were still in Bradley’s heart and soul. On the other hand, Grumman was hesitating between congratulations and berating her. How could she leave them behind?! It was almost a treason.

“What good news, Juliett! Well, congratulations are in order.”

Kimblee got up from behind his desk and walked up to her, giving her a warm hug. The very vision was unnerving, because any sentimentality coming from him felt wrong. He was the creep of their group after all, but despite it all, he was a human being. Or at least, he knew how to act like one when needed, Bradley thought, holding back a slight smirk.

“How long have you known, Jul?” King asked.

Making small talk would hold her in their squad long enough for Grumman to find his countenance again.

“For a few weeks already.” She admitted.

He remembered how green she had looked at the ball. She seemed pale even now, barely blushing. Was she simply pregnant or getting sick at the same time? Her skin was almost translucent and he was certain to have seen other pregnant women before that didn’t look half as bad as she did. Her cheekbones were showing, which was a first. Had he been in such a dreamy state because of how well things were going with Amelia that he didn’t look intently at the world around him?

“You’re unbelievable.”

He couldn’t voice his worries about her health. She would simply shove it aside and say that she wasn’t something fragile that needed protection.

“I’m going to miss you King.”

“Come on, we’ll be visiting on you as much as Grumman wants. You know he can’t live without you.”

It wasn’t a secret for any of them that Eli was quite enamored with Juliett in fact. He respected her and never went too far with his jokes, but this news was a serious blow to his heart. King nudged his friend in the shoulder, almost sending him sprawling to the floor.

“Say something Eli, this is getting ridiculous.”

The blond man blinked, righting the shoulders of his uniform before to swallow it all down and put on a cheerful smile.

“We’re all going to miss you, Juliett. Now I’m going to be the last sane person around here!”

She laughed at that and the three soldiers left, Kimblee had decided that this was getting far too sappy for him, fell in a group hug. They had been through awful times and good times alike. No matter how tough they pretended to be or truly were, it was hard to think this was a simple good-bye. Not being part of the military anymore meant Juliett wouldn’t be able to learn what they were going through, would be treated as a mere civilian. She was their sister and no matter how much they wanted to visit her, another war would snatch them away and on the front. Bradley knew a promotion was waiting for him around the corner. He needed an occasion to get it. And people usually died when it came down to it.

Coming out from their hug, they decided to give Juliett the celebration her good news deserved. Their squad had other soldiers than the tree of them, but they were closer and took their comrade in arms to the nicest restaurant in Central. The next day, Juliett didn’t show in the squad’s office for her paperwork and her desk remained untouched, without any owner to sit behind it. It sank in slowly. Days passed. Grumman pretended he didn’t mind, but her absence was hard to take. King pretended he didn’t mind but the questions were still there. He had been given birth and all the things that happened before that time were a complete mystery. Who were those humans who brought him into this world? Was he some kind of bad surprise?

One week after Juliett’s leave, a new recruit popped in the place. It was a young man, with a gruffy face and eyes that were closed most of the time. Kimblee was promoted to another squad and Grumman was named colonel and Bradley became his first lieutenant. They both knew it was a matter of time before they too go their separate way. Grumman was aiming for a position in the east while Bradley wanted to reach the top of the military and would have to stay here in Central. Juliett’s resignation was just the beginning for their little group. But it was a heavy blow. And bad news never came alone.

…

“Please, please, let me through!”

Bradley was surprised by the young voice calling for mercy just outside the doors. It felt familiar somewhat, though it was so young. As a soldier retorded that civilians weren’t allowed inside and the voice shattered into tears, he sighed. This ruckus was bad for his paper work. Those things would have to be dismissed from his charge when he would be fuhrer. He couldn’t have it any other way.

“I must see the colonel Grumman! He has to be here.”

Bradley was alone in the office. Grumman had been summoned with all the higher officers to a super council to determine if Aerugo in the south was proving too much of a problem. The next seal would come soon. And Grumman was in for a long meeting.

“I’m his daughter, won’t you let me in?”

That was enough for King. He remembered the whiny little girl from a few years ago. Grumman barely talked of his family life, but he had been scrupulously celebrating his daughter’s birthdays and had changed the picture on the single frame he had on his desk each year. Bradley had seen the evolution, the freckles imposing themselves on the pale skin, the blond hair growing long and wavy, since the current fashion demanded it. Ribbons had given place to complicated hairstyle and fashion took over her mother’s cute little dresses. King wasn’t ready to see her all grown up though. He’d seen her more often as an 8 year old child than anything else. Now, she was 15 and looked quite womanlike for such a young age.

As he walked out the door of the barracks and outside, he spotted her tearful eyes and the shaking in her round shoulders. She wore a blue sky dress, frilly and stained with teardrops mark around her collar. There was a loose shawl around her waist that hanged in her elbows and her hair was disheveled. A girl from her class would never go out looking like that if something wasn’t amiss. The wind blew strongly, reminding the soldier that autumn was setting in and King felt an ache behind his tattooed-eye. He winced.

“Baron, you’d better let the girl in. Colonel Grumman will be mad at you if he learns you forbid her entrance when she’s in such a state.”

The recruit obliged, contritely. Anna-Elisabeth ran inside, her arms clutched to her chest, her petite shape looking incredibly small to Bradley as she stopped at his side, holding back her tears.

“Is my father around, mister Bradley?” she asked, making tremendous efforts to keep her dignity.

He shook his head but offered her his arm.

“You can wait for him inside. It will be warmer.”

He felt something as she accepted his arm, a presence that loomed closely. It was hard to understand his impression and his few souls were quiet, sometime yelling a random explanation that made little sense in his many many thoughts.

 _Not a shadow_ , he analyzed. This wasn’t Pride. The smell wasn’t of Envy. Lust couldn’t be anywhere, he would have spotted her right away. Then what?

As he closed the door behind him, she collapsed into a chair, heaving a deep sigh.

“Something’s wrong with you, Liz. What’s going on?”

“I can’t… Oh, I must look awful, please don’t look at me, okay? I’ll just… stay here, silently, not crying and I’ll…”

She seemed ready to crack and he looked away, unprepared to face such a situation. This was his best friend’s daughter and she was clearly hurt. She kinda reminded him of the state Amelia was in when she’d seen him at the ball with all the sophisticated ladies _harpying_ it out on him. The thought still hurt.

He missed the little girl she once was. He remembered giving her a piggy ride once just to prove he could be good with kid and also because he’d lost a bet with Grumman. Amelia had taken care of Anna-Elisabeth a few times, always with his reluctant help and he remembered how the girls braided each other hair and how the kid used to smile. Now her smile was upside down, her cheeks red but her face pale and her breathing went unevenly as she tried to calm herself.

“Liz, I don’t think your father is in the right mind to walk in this room and see you like this. You know he’s still shaken by Juliett’s resignation and…”

“I know but I can’t control myself. I’m not ready for this either.”

There was doom and affliction in her tone and Bradley felt anger. What could be so terrible for her to be in such a state? What petty human problem could she have? He tried to hold it back, there was no reason to be jealous or angry. He just had to contain his first reaction. To forget the little girl from another time and think about the young woman in front of him now.

“Maybe I can help somehow.”

“No one can help me. Not even alchemy can change this.”

He turned even more alert at that word. When had she encountered alchemy?

He kneeled in front of her chair and forced her to look up at him with his commanding voice:

“Tell me what happened.”

As she inhaled deeply, her tears rising again, his souls warned him the presence was closer than he’d first thought. It was inside her. And then he knew.

“I… I made a boyfriend and he’s been really sweet and nice, even if he’s older and dad disapproved of us.”

Bradley raised himself up, feeling a weird tangle of anger and loathing. That girl was fifteen. Still a mere child. Which proper boy would put her in such a situation? Heck, he had courted Amelia for more than a year and still hadn’t done anything worse than kissing and holding her.

“It’s not… that Hawkeye guy? Ber… He has such a weird name.”

“Bertie doesn’t know!” she yelled, her arms shaking around her frame, as she held herself. “He never meant for this to happen. There’s still time, but I’m scared, Brad, so scared.”

“So this is what I think it is.”

His voice was cold, too cold for the situation, but Bradley felt a rage, both for the guy who did this to her and the fact she was looking for comfort when she should assume the consequences of her decisions.

“I… You think I wanted this to happen? I know I’m too young. I know we’ve been foolish. But I love Berthold.”

“And now you’re pregnant and trying to decide what to do with yourself?”

She flinched at his harshness but nodded, too scared by what was looming in her future to stand up to him. And he wished she’d stood up instead, like she used to. Had she been made weak? He could picture another woman, with dark hair, shaking green eyes, a woman as young, thinking about giving up the child that was coming too soon in her life. Was it how it had happened for his own mother? His anger flared. Such foolish human, falling into sin for love and idle pleasure.

“I don’t know what to do.”

He sighed, trying to stay rational if not compassionate. She was a young girl. This was only half her fault.

“Did you talk about this with your mother, Liz? She could help you. There are… ways of aborting or…”

The words burned his throat. But wouldn’t it be better if she was so reluctant about this birth, to save the kid the trouble? Where did dead babies go? She shuddered at the thought.

“I can’t do that. I can’t tell her. I’m already disgraced as it is, I know. Berthold never was good enough for any of them and now… But I can’t kill it.” She added, her hands flattening against her belly that was still so normal, so not pregnant with life.

Bradley agreed with her. Either way weren’t fair, but taking life away before that it even start would be a crime worse than murder.

“Than, what’s left for you to do? Hide for the next few months, from your father and from your Berthold? They’ll know, even if you don’t tell them.”

“Oh no, mister Bradley, you mustn’t tell my father! I’ll tell him myself. He’ll understand and…”

She was almost wailing and it was quite ugly to watch, even if it did break his human heart. He tried to feel only anger. He genuinely tried so that he would be able to keep his calm. Anger was good. Wrath was a wall that prevented understanding. But while he felt anger, he still understood all too well. And he hated himself for feeling compassion, because that too did hurt quite a lot.

“Liz, look at yourself. How can he accept that you’ll keep the baby with the state you’re already in?”

“It’s an important decision I’m making! And I have every right to be emotional about it.”

One minute ago she didn’t know what to do and was defeated and sobbing and now her fighting spirit was slowly coming back. The gods of Xin be praised, she was looking better. There was no way he was comforting Grumman’s girl over this. He had better things to do with his life.

“So you made up your mind? Without needing to talk it over with that Bert…”

“It’s Berthold. And I know he’ll help me. He’s just really busy with his research right now but…”

Bradley could almost see what would come out of this. Except for the kid, who had the potential to be anything. Everything. Anna had ruined most of her chances in life. He couldn’t help but stare at her. She was so small. Her hands were still shaking slightly, but not solely from apprehension. Her waist was slim and her tights lacked curves. He remembered what some simple-minded soldiers said about women. Bearing children is a tough business, and a certain built was required. He had been worried about Juliett when she told them the news. And he was so worried for his friend. But what did it mean in his life if Grumman was crushed? Should he really care?

 _Of course_ , his souls warned him.

_But it’s a weakness in their eyes and I can’t be weak. Not if I want power._

This was a trifle diversion. He couldn’t control Liz’s life or make Grumman’s worries vanish. If she died while giving birth, it was her problem. But something within him couldn’t help but feel sorry for the baby involved. If things had been different, maybe…

“Dry your tears, Liz. You can’t kill it, so you’ll keep it and see things through. Your father’s bound to help you.”

“I’m not running to my daddy for help. Support maybe, but just… Oh, I know this was a mistake, but what’s done is done and…”

Bradley gave her a tissue to wipe her tears and some time to collect her thoughts and emotions before to suggest her some tea. That was Amelia rubbing off on him and he knew it, but the warm liquid seemed to comfort the girl and so did it comfort him. Grumman thankfully arrived a moment later and King decided to get out from the military house. He walked around Central aimlessly. War was coming. It had been written all over Grumman face. Envy’s smile the last day had also told him so. No surprise. He found himself at Amelia’s hotel and was surprised when he learned that she wasn’t there.

He was usually quite lucky about his unannounced visits. Then again, it was a good reminder that Amelia had a life when he wasn’t around and couldn’t simply wait for him to show up every now and then.

“She’ll be leaving to see her parents in a few days. She must make some preparations for the travel, didn’t she tell you?”

It was a surprise and a bad one. He’d seen Amelia four days ago and there was no warning, nothing.

“What is she buying?” he asked,

“Some medicine for her father.”

He was gone without another word. He needed some reprieve. He needed to see her so that the anger still roaring within him could be replaced with easy chatter, nervous butterflies and wonder. He’d escorted her to the drugstore selling her father’s medicine. It was an apothecary of sorts and she usually send the leaves and powder by mail instead of taking it there herself. He almost ran on the streets, feeling a new sense of urgency. Why would she leave so suddenly? Why didn’t she even send him a letter, a note or something? They weren’t supposed to see each other for a week or two, because of crazy training schedules for the new wave of recruits he was forming. She knew he was busy. She was patient. Had he asked too much? Was she having second thoughts? Should he have proposed already?

She noticed him at the same time he spotted her on the street. Her smile was faint as she realized how anxious he was. She was holding too many bags to hold him right away and gave him a sad grin.

“Did something happened?” she asked. “You look like someone died.”

She wasn’t even joking and he tried to contain himself a bit more.

“Your aunt told me you were leaving in a few days to go visit your parents.”

“She did what?! But I’m not, I would have told you if I did…”

Shock was so clear on her face, he couldn’t doubt her words. And he wouldn’t put it past her aunt to lie. He escorted her back to the hotel, both of them walking quite fast, exchanging banalities. He had forced her to give him half of her bags at least, before Amelia was always too stubborn to let him carry all of her things. A small dispute later, things were settled between aunt and niece and Bradley was sitting on Amelia’s bed, looking at the young woman fussing in front of him.

“I can’t believe the gall she has!”

Miss Corsaire had declared that Bradley would do better not to take her niece for granted and that her white lie was nothing but a lesson for the both of them. She had looked scandalized to see Amelia dragging Bradley to her room, but clients arrived and she had to put up a good front.

“If you don’t calm down before she comes up, we won’t even be able to properly talk.” He gently warned her.

She crossed her arms over her chest, eyeing him with suspicion. Lately, less talking was involved in their meeting. They always felt they had much catching up to do.

“Or well, improperly kissing.” King corrected, smiling at her approving nod.

“It sounds childish when you say it like that.”

“Child shouldn’t be doing stuff like that.” He sighed, darkening slightly.

She came to sit next to him and gently slipped her hand inside his, their fingers intertwining instantly. Touch wasn’t as scary around her anymore. He barely flinched when she would get too bold and right now, her caresses were more than welcome.

“What’s wrong, King?”

She would be so sad if he told her.

“Nothing. I missed you.”

“You always say that.”

“I always miss you. Even when you’re standing in the same room as me.”

She blushed and shook her head, but he could tell she was moved by his words and he liked to see their effect on her.

“Be serious Brad. There’s no need for flirt or…”

“I like seeing you flustered, just as you like seeing me being clumsy and aloof.”

He tugged on her arm, gently turning her around so that she would face him.

“Not aloof. Aloof is bad.” She retorted, poking him on the nose. He dodged her finger and kissed the palm of her hand, smiling, because her smile always did that to him.

“What’s good then?”

“You, Brad.”

His breath was caught in his throat. Half an hour ago, he had been rough and harsh with someone who merely needed help and comfort. And still, in Amelia’s eyes, he felt like a different person. Maybe his true self. He had too many true selves. It still scared him. He was still trying to find the right persona to be the ideal Furher, both for himself and his Father’s plans.

They exchanged a kiss that was half pure, half dirty. He needed much much more of those. Her hands were on each side of his head and he gently laid her down, to gain more comfort. She knew he needed gentle touch from the way he breathed between kisses, from the way he cradled her in his arms. He could tell how welcome he was, her legs wrapping around his waist, her arms on his shoulders. Property was a far gone notion. They were old enough. His mouth explored her face, going down her jaw, to skim over her neck, her collarbone, moving away the fabric of her dress with his hand. She ruffled his hair, holding his head in place, massaging his scalp.

The door had three locks instead of one now, a modification made by Bradley just recently, so her aunt’s wrath was not entirely on their mind. The studs of beard on his face made her laugh and gasp and those sounds were the best he’d heard in his life.

“King…”

She slightly pulled on his locks, her breathing going wild at his ministrations and he forced himself to a halt, letting her dress cover her left shoulder anew. It was always fascinating for him, how every piece of her body and skin could mesmerize him. His left hand was toying with her hair, her braid undone, while he held himself above her with right arm. Their gaze locked together, the embrace feeling more intimate. She cupped his face with one hand, before to remove his eye patch, which made him tense even if he knew everything would be fine.

“You shouldn’t…” he started, ready to raise himself up and break the moment, but she held him to her with her legs, making it a little hard for him to remain motionless.

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel so human with you.” He sighed, burying his face in her neck and breathing her in, which caused her to shiver.

“Not the eyepatch, King. Something else happened. It’s in your eyes.”

“There’s no emotions in that… thing they stuck to my face.”

“It’s in your heart. In your hands, in your kisses, in the way you touch me. As if something’s holding you back and at the same time you want to let everything lose.”

It was true he was rarely this outgoing and that when he was, it was harder to get him to refrain his enthusiasm. She couldn’t blame him. She was just as enthusiastic as him. It was comfortable, being together, getting to know how to be together in this kind of closeness. They wanted to share each other in every way, but Bradley still thought the proper way of things was to marry her first and hadn’t ask her the question yet.

“Okay.” He sighed. “If you don’t untangle your legs from me, I swear, I won’t be able to control myself.”

She obliged him and they parted, quite reluctantly, sitting up and doing their best to look proper again. It was part a game and part an obligation. The courtship demanded it. Bradley was proud of his self-control. But slowly he realized a few buttons from his shirt were undone and that she was so prettily flushed, with her lips swollen from their kisses… The sight was almost enough to throw her back down on the mattress.

But that would be ungentlemanly and too rough, even if she loved him.

“So…?”

“Juliett had her baby last week.”

“I know, it’s a boy, huh? She named him Roy? Bad name?”

“It’s not the name. It’s the baby. That and the fact Anna-Elisabeth Grumman got herself pregnant.”

Amelia let out an indignant cry.

“But she’s… she’s just fifteen years old!”

He waited for her to calm down before to whisper:

“I’m 26, soon 27 and still single while a fifteen years old is having a baby.”

“What’s the world coming to”, she sighed. “So what’s worse, being legally single or not being a father?”

He laughed at that and held her in his arms, his back resting against the wall.

“I guess I took the wrong way to introduce the subject.” He mused.

“Which subject?”

She was looking at him with warm eyes and her smile held something wicked. He knew that look. The first time, he had felt scared, as if Lust could have taken over her and it was a nightmare and not his real life, but… lust was part of human nature. And her playfulness was still there, in the twinkle in her eyes.

“Being a selfish man who wants you to be his.”

She gasped at that, blushing, but her eyes didn’t look away. He knew she was as nervous as him. Despite the familiarity and intimacy that had grown between them, closeness yet had to become absolute.

“Would that mean that I could be selfish too?”

Her hands were lying flatly over his chest and she stared at him, undoing another button of his shirt and grazing the airs on his torso. The shivers that ran through him at that were the best he’d felt around her. God, she wanted him. All of him, even with the tattooed eye.

“Sure, but we’re still in the middle of courtship and…”

She gave him a look that was half annoyed half amused. It had taken them quite a long time to get this far. Maybe was it time to screw a few rules. But he followed rules, dutifully. And she liked the wait, liked to feel respected and admired. He could tell. Or at least, he had the illusion that he could.

“I need to do this the right way, Amelia.”

She replied with a tender kiss and it was hard to resist tenderness when he found himself craving more after being so deprived from it.

“You know the saying, Brad? If this is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right.”

It couldn’t be wrong, nothing involving her touching him could be wrong, simply improper and he had learned that improper was nice.

“I want you, ‘Melia, you know it. It’s hard sometime and it hurts but… We might be send out at any time now. I don’t want to rush things and be forced to leave you for months afterwards.”

“But you’re always going to leave at some point for war, council or diplomatic missions.”

She slipped off his lap and crossed her arms over her chest, her shoulder brushing against his. He wanted to hold her. To get up and run away before the dream ended. It couldn’t keep going so well. Somehow things would go to hell. Father would order him to do something crazy. She would be hurt. She had been so patient already. Would waiting anymore serve any purpose? His mind was made up.

Bradley shifted his weight, trying to picture how to phrase his thoughts. His souls cheered him.

“Be my wife.” He asked.

“What?!”

“It’s the next step, isn’t it?”

“You’re just asking it like that, without even looking me in the eyes?”

He bit his lips as his souls booed him, but as he got up and buttoned his shirt to look a little proper, she was smiling. And the twinkles in her eyes had grown into stars.

“Where did you put my eyepatch?”

“You don’t need it.”

She meant to add : not with me at least.

“I certainly do.”

And it was simply because he was afraid she would end up scared when she’d finally gotten over the fact he’d told her the truth. Taking a deep breath, his eyepatch back on his eye, the green one looking intently at her, he motioned to kneel. She stopped him, shaking her head.

“Don’t… There’s no need for classics. I just need you to be yourself.”

“Give me your hands.” He asked.

She complied and he pulled her up, not letting go. She looked small and frail, a human girl, the woman who held his heart in her hands. For a moment, doubt sneaked up on him, threatening to have him back away. But was there a choice when he could have her around as much as possible?

“Would you be my wife, Amelia?”

Her smile glowed and she wrapped her arms around him, soon engulfed in a bear hug.

“I’m yours if you’re mine, King.”

He had no idea how much courage it took her to say those words. Had no idea how he could promise to be hers when he didn’t have the impression of belonging to himself. But this was asking a lot of her. To follow him in the schemes. To join in the danger of his military world when she was a pacifist at heart. He was familiar to her now, but also unknown and alien in so many ways. But all of that was swept away by the feelings taking over them. Her lips tasted like a smile and right now it was enough.

 _I need a ring_ , he thought as he walked out of the hotel, followed by the indignation of his soon-to-be aunt in law. If that even existed. His heart was lighter. There was no anger, except maybe at the time that couldn’t pass fast enough, or the fact that it went by so fast when he was around her.

 _Maybe flowers_ , his souls suggested.

He already missed the feeling of her in his arms. He realized he’d barely asked her what was happening to her. He still had a lot to do if he ever wanted to be a model partner for Amelia.

…

“I heard our brother was quite happy with himself the other day.” Lust whispered at no one in particular, standing alone in the underground tunnel.

“I heard about an official demand. He’s getting serious about that bag of meat.” The shadows replied in their hushed voices.

“She almost plain, but they might suit each other on the regard. He’s banal at most.” Envy observed. He was hiding in the shadows, a black cat in a dark place.

Lust’s eyes shone red.

“Do you think what I think, brother?”

“Our younger brother needs some more testing. And so does his potential wife.”

Pride’s grins had no bounds.

“It’s going to be nice. We can dispatch anyone. You don’t have to dirty your hands yourselves this time.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind, but we don’t want to go overboard. Father would disagree. He seems to have taken a liking to his little soldier.”

“Father doesn’t care about a human woman. And if Wrath does, it’s his own fault.”

Their smiles got larger, while Lust simply nodded in agreement. Bradley would never know what happened.

“Who’s taking care of Aerugo?” she inquired.

“Sloth is supposed to. Guess we should send someone to check up on him.”

Pride sighed and pushed Envy around, which caused him to snarl in answer.

“I’m sick of being his babysitter.” The shadowy homunculus complained.

“Let Wrath do it,” Intervened Lust. “He’ll be delayed. A skirmish can happen so fast.”

“Bloodbath would sound better.”

The cat was stroking his head against her leg and she picked it in her hands, one of her nails growing long enough to cut through shadows.

“Yes, it would. But there’s a certain law in the world of humans. If things can got bad, they will get worse.”

They exchanged a knowing gaze. The future looked uneasy for Wrath. He was still a pawn and he’d better never forget it.

To be continued…


	19. I want you mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley tries to stay proper and properly alive...

I chose you – Chapter 19 – I want you mine

It had started innocently enough, with a walk around the fields and pleasant talks about her life as a little girl. Bradley wasn’t supposed to show around Amelia’s house while she was visiting her parents. It was far in the countryside, a small town, unrelated to any soldier or military business. He had been stationed on the border, right next to Aerugo, to fight rebels a few months earlier. The fights had been easy, somewhat reassuring. Killing was growing normal. Spilling the blood, evading the comebacks, the blades and the bullets aimed for him. He was unscathed after the three first weeks. Kimblee had been sent to another post and Grumman was pretty much bored of all the fighting. He kept saying he was getting too old for this.

On a moonless night, King had been attacked by a monster far worse than a human spy or soldier. It was the combined strength of Pride and Sloth. The only explanation he got from them was that Father was discontent with his work and thought he needed to reflect on himself. King had just been promoted to a colonel position and had a whole squad to look after. The fight had been almost even, until one of his soldiers got in, meaning to help.

The petty human merely got in his way. And up to this day, King couldn’t help but think that if he had gotten wounded, it only happened because the man had intervened. Of course, Pride and Sloth weren’t supposed to kill him, but between the dark tentacles with sharp teeth coming for him and Sloth mindless speed, Wrath had had a hard time, people getting in the way or not. His left arm had been broken despite all his best effort to avoid the brunt force of Sloth. How he hated Father sometimes. Testing him anytime while they were in Central was one thing. Giving him a punishment out in the frontlines…

The explanations made were that two monsters created by Aerugo’s alchemists had viciously attacked Bradley, forcing him to fall back and take a leave of absence. Aerugo had no alchemists, but the other soldiers didn’t need to know about that. King wasn’t happy, until a letter from Amelia told him that she was back at her parents’ house for a few weeks and was quite willing to nurse him back to health. Grumman encouraged him and since the army was shoving him aside until his bones were fully back together, he decided he’d rather spent time with her.

Surely enough, his broken arm was still stiff but had healed quickly, while he was officially introduced to his future father-in-law and mother-in-law. The idea of having surrogate parents was somehow disconcerting, but they were welcoming, except maybe for some doubts coming from the father, but Grumman had warned him that this kind of thing was pretty common. No father could easily give up his daughter to a young man.

King had managed to behave properly, sleeping in a separate room than Amelia. He made a point of showing her parents that he was worthy of her, much to her embarrassment. At first, she had treated him with exaggerated care, as she was worried his fracture could get worse. He had impressive bruises that also healed quickly and she happily went back to her playful dispositions as his left arm started to move again without any sign of pain from him.

So three weeks after his arrival to her hometown, Bradley was taking his fiancée for a stroll around the fields. She hanged on his right arm, mindful of preserving the left one from any important task. People had the good sense of letting the lovebirds alone and the couple was doing his best not to be hasty in their exchange of affections. Bradley had been grumpy the first days, despite all his efforts. The punishment from his brethren worried him and he expected something else to happen at any moment in time. That didn’t help him to relax, even when he was alone with Amelia.

But today, he acted less tensed, slowly realizing that the broken arm and leave of absence from the frontlines might be enough in Father’s mind. He had had some nightmares and knew his visit was hard for the whole Corsaire’s family, reminding them of their lost son. He had seen death from too close to mock their pain, but he saw no way to ease it. He’d exchanged a few kisses with Amelia here and there, mere peck on the lips, nothing lasting, nothing that felt strong enough to show what he felt. He missed the afternoons spent in her rooms on cloudy days off, back in Central, where the only thing that could separate them was her aunt. He knew that under her playfulness, the young woman was getting impatient. Her parents were good folks, but they were as strict as her aunt. And there was two of them.

They’d rather be alone for hours on end, talking or simply enjoying their company, but King felt under a constant watch. The neighbours were curious too. Here, he was no one and Amelia was the one everybody wanted to protect from him in case he was just a mean soldier guy, messing around with their favorite country girl. They were old enough to be left alone, but in small city like this one, traditions were stronger. It wasn’t rare to see unmarried people eloping in Central or East City. Not in Amelia’s town. That didn’t mean she would let it get to her. Today was a special day, their first walk alone, without a chaperon, when the fields were filled with crops that still had to grow higher.

King followed her around, over hills and down roads made of sheer earth. He liked the air and the sun and everything about the view, but he didn’t like the tall crops on their left, right where he felt weaker. Who could be lurking in the shadows? He knew too well and the nightmares were too close to reality yet. Provocative as always, Amelia observed it and decided that they were far enough from civilization for more serious talk.

“Won’t you relax even now?”

“I’m relaxed.” He protested.

“Your back and neck says otherwise. Are you always on edge? You’re convalescent and still, you act as if something could jump at us from the bushes or…”

“No. I’m just…”

He sighed, not denying it anymore.

“I like being prepared.”

“Prepared, huh?”

She extended one of her leg in front of his feet as he walked, almost catching him off guard. He managed to stay upright without too much problem, but that effectively stopped their movement as he stared at her, the shock showing on his face. This couldn’t be Envy, could it be? She smelled like Amelia and he shook his head, to focus on her expressions. He was getting good at reading her, but right now, she gave him ambiguous signals.

“Did you seriously try to trip me?”

“I just wanted to check if you were prepared.” She retorted with a conniving smile. “I knew you were of course.”

“What’s wrong, ‘Melia? Are you bored of me? Is that a new kind of game?”

“No, no, it’s not that. I’m really happy you came here and that I can take care of nursing you for once.” She paused, clearly not telling him everything. He towered over her, arms crossed despite the pain, waiting for the rest of the explanation. “But we’ve been acting like an old couple, talking about the weather and the war all the time. Between my parents’ shop and your nightmares and everyone in town inviting us just to scrutinize you…”

He smiled at that.

“Scrutinize us. Don’t you think some people must be lurking around just to spy on us right now, and won’t be reporting to your mother as soon as I do something suspicious? She’s worse than your aunt.”

“You only say that because my father is sick. If he was in full shape, you would fear him a lot more.”

“I’d say that I’ve learned to fear women over men. You’re of a crazy kind, you know.”

It was all in good humor and she knew, but the fact he was bold enough to joke around wasn’t enough.

“I wish I could get you to really relax.”

“Don’t try to change me on that account. If you still want the ring, you need to take me like this, with the quirks and the wrongs.”

She shook her head, grabbing both his hands and pulling him after her. He winced but managed to hide it from her. His entire left arm was still quite sensible to pressure or pulling. He’d broken his humerus and the less he moved, the better his recovery. But Amelia was taking him somewhere as she reminded him:

“It’s not the ring I’m after, King. It’s you and you know it.”

He didn’t see the blush on her cheeks but he felt his heart jumping in his chest. She was still willing to have him and that fact kept on being a surprise. He never wanted to take her for granted. They found themselves in a small valley, covered in green grass and nice threes that bare no fruit. No one was around and the fields were half a mile behind them. Amelia was a good walker. Her stamina was impressive for a woman with no training.

“Does your arm hurt?” she inquired as she finally let go of his hands, realizing she might have hurt him.

“It’s fine.”

She gently grabbed his head between her hands, looking him straight in the eye.

“It’s not. And you’re still tense.” She observed.

“Come on, you’re being pushy.” He replied, wrapping his good arm around her.

“You like it, don’t you?”

He couldn’t deny it. Every surprise Amelia had in store for him had been a good one so far. They shared the lead in their relationship, not trying to repeat whatever society dictated. Bradley was bold only when they were alone, while she was all the time. What he had to learn was that he made her bolder, while she was a timid woman with anyone else. Oh she was brave and wouldn’t let anyone order her around, unless she chose to. But sometimes, she needed time to herself, sometimes, she didn’t want to chatter, sometimes she wished she could closed herself up from the whole world around her. And King gave her the solace she needed.

“It depends…”

He leaned in to share a kiss with her, but she eluded him, which was unexpected.

“Now, now, I didn’t brought you here to jump right into your arms like a woman starving for attention.”

“You didn’t? Why? I had that fantasy about how I’d pay back my nurse for all her patience and kindness.”

Her cheeks flushed a bright red, because that was the boldest thing he’d ever told her, joking or not.

“Of course, it was implied. But first…”

She hesitated and he gave her an encouraging smile.

“First, I want you to tell me we’re getting married before the next war. If it can happen before the end of this one, it’d be even better.”

That caught him off guard and he blinked, not sure whether to be happy or not. She had shown signs of impatience before. Now she seemed scared. As if there was no more time. As if he had taken too long already.

“Why the hurry? There’s an age limit for marrying?”

“No, but… Oh, for god’s sake, don’t make it hard for me, King. I don’t want to get sappy. I just want us to decide on a date. I want our life together to start for real. You keep saying you want it to happen, that you want everything to be made properly about us, but I… When I learned you got hurt badly enough to be sent away…”

She had waited three weeks to tell him. He had known, of course, but to see her face turning so pale, her trembling shoulders… It was Father’s fault. If he had been fighting against humans, it wouldn’t have happened. Well, maybe it still would have happened, but it wouldn’t have been as bad.

“You think I’d die on you?”

“No, no, don’t say it!”

Maybe was it the fact they were around her home. Where her brother had grown with her, to eventually die for his country.

“Have some trust in me.”

“This is not about trust!” Now she was angry with him and he could understand. “I know you’re supposed to be untouchable until you’re Fuhrer, but time and again, your… _guys_ have proved you wrong and you got hurt, more than once. This time, it healed, but what about next time?”

He hadn’t even tell her this broken arm was the doing of his evil brethren and still she knew. She wasn’t stupid, his girl, but it hurt to see her like that, so worried for their potentially too-short future. But would it have been better to lie and lose her? He opened his arms but she refused the comfort.

“Are you scared, King? About the idea of marrying me?”

“ _You_ ’re scaring me. You don’t even let me touch you and you’re on the verge of crying.”

“I want a date to be fixed. I want this dream to be real and not… please let it not turn into a living nightmare.”

That expression puzzled him and he dropped his arms, his shoulders sagging. He knew Father was displeased with him, but he had no idea about what. No one had shown up to tell him, there was no coded letter, nothing. Was Amelia the one thing displeasing Father. Could he take the risk?

“What has been going on in your head? What are you so scared of? Because this is not about me possibly dying.”

He walked up to her, grabbing her shoulder. She jerked away and it pained him more than any broken bone. She bit her lips and turned around, to look at the blue sky and the long grass and take a good breathe before to release it. Bradley gave her the time she needed, even if he was anxious to understand what was eating her up.

“I’ve been thinking about all this, King. I’ve been picturing what it could look like. Me becoming Mrs. Bradley. And all the things you’ll have to hide from me because you want to protect me. And that much is fine. I know I’m better off not knowing certain things. But those… _people_ , pulling the strings, making your decisions. I know you hate it now. Won’t it be even worse when you’ll reach their goal? Won’t you start to hate yourself at some point, or the humans around you that never saw anything, or me who won’t ever be able to truly help you?”

At first, he felt anger, because she dared to doubt him, but hadn’t she every reasons in the world to doubt? He wanted to hold her, but it was as if there was a wall between them, suddenly, thicker than the ones before. His words came out ragged.

“No. No, I won’t… I could never…”

“You don’t know. And because you don’t know, you don’t want to rush anything.”

He spun her around, almost fierce in his gesture, because she was talking nonsense and because he wouldn’t take nonsense from her, even if she meant well.

“What I don’t know is if I can fix a date right now. But I’m a stubborn man. If I love you now, I’ll love you in thirty, forty, fifty and all the years to come.”

Her face lit up at that. He was the sweetest man she knew.

“I’ll be an old hag in fifty years.”

“And I might be an insufferable geezer with aching joints and white hairs everywhere.”

They laughed together, knowing that aging side by side was the last of their worries. She looked up into his aqua green eye. It seemed that his mind was made up about her and that she was slightly reassured.

“I really wished they’d put that stone somewhere else on you. I really love the color of your eye.”

And after the fear came the relief, because she was still full of tenderness. All the harsh things in his heart and mind were melting with his souls.

“You have to let me kiss you now.” He pleaded.

“No.”

She sounded playful and he wondered how she could pull it off. But Amelia had a plan.

“I made you even more tensed than before. I’ll give you a massage first.”

“Are you aiming to drive me crazy?”

“You’re a really contained gentleman. And we’re out in the open, so I guess your sense of propriety will prevail.”

“So you’re testing me?” he asked as she gently pushed on his shoulders so that he would sit down in the grass.

“You’ve tested me before, haven’t you? Dancing with other girls, talking of Juliett all the time, removing your eye patch…”

“Those are two different things.”

He didn’t know why he was protesting. Amelia was standing on her knees behind him, her hands trying to remove the knots in his back and neck and it was heaven on earth. But still, their earlier conversation scared him. After a few minutes of letting himself be cajoled, he broke the silence.

“You know I really mean to marry you and I don’t want you to wait for it.”

“I know.”

Her hands worked on his right shoulder and found tension’s points he hadn’t even noticed.

“When did you learn to do that?”

“My aunt taught me. I heard she learned it from the Armstrong’s family.”

“Why did she taught you that?”

“For my father. It helps reduce his coughs and mom gets tired of doing it every week. And some clients at the hotel appreciate extra special care.”

Anger rose in him at the idea of her doing such a favor to any other man. Her father was fine, but anyone else…

“It’s a joke, right? You don’t offer this kind of service? Not with the things your aunt went through…”

“Of course it’s a joke. Don’t spoil my mood, now. I’m working and you’re as stiff as a brick wall.”

He rolled his shoulders, feeling a little nervous as her nails grazing his skin made him shiver. She was doing this on purpose.

“Are you perhaps… mad at me?”

“Maybe a little. Are you not angry all the time? You think you have a monopole?”

“No, but… I’m not angry right now.”

“I know I sound difficult. It’s just… I know it’s hard being here for you, but I’d rather be somewhere else too, with just you. Whenever I’m here, my parents act all motherly and over protective.”

“I wish I could relate to that.”

“Oh Brad, darling.” She sounded so sad and he looked around apologetically.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I… You can lay things on my shoulders too, you know, I don’t have to be the one always complaining about his life.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine. You do well to remind me that I’m a lucky girl.”

Her hands gently stroke his nape and a few of his locks, giving him more shivers. He wanted to move around and hold her but she had rejected him so many times already that he didn’t dare to act on any impulse. She kept massaging him, creeping slightly closer to him, so that her hands could reach around his neck and undo a few buttons of his shirt. He tensed up at that.

“What are you…?”

“This is purely medical. Usually, you should be shirtless for a massage.”

“Amelia…”

Her hands ran on his shoulders, on his collarbone and he felt her breathing on the back of his head. His breath hitched and his body relaxed for an instant. There was a blissful kind of torture in this world and this was it.

“See, you were tense.”

“What are you trying to do? ”

“Convince you that I’m essential to your life.”

“I already knew.”

He grabbed her hands in his, before to turn around, unable to take anymore of this without giving something back in return. There was no need for words. Her eyes were filled with love and longing and so was his. He gently laid her down into the grass and she didn’t protest, welcoming his hungry kisses. Three weeks of restraint and about two months apart were a lot to catch up in one single afternoon. He wanted to shower her in love, to touch her everywhere, but he had to draw the line, because it seemed Amelia was tired of waiting and he simply couldn’t do her in the middle of nowhere, not even if he felt like it. There was another limitation to their growing desire and it was the reason that had brought them together in this town. Wrath’s left arm was still fragile and his own weight was hard to handle. After a dozen breathless kisses, he pulled back, leaning all his weight on his right side, barely holding himself above her.

“You can lay down on me, you know.”

“I’m too heavy, you’d get hurt.”

And it was noble and sweet and Amelia loved him for his thoughtfulness, but there was so much a girl could take. She managed to turn them around, using his weak left side to her advantage. She knew that if he had wanted to stop her, he could have. Bradley was a mighty warrior, armed or not. But he didn’t mind having her on top. He could relinquish control with her. Heck, he was running his right hand over her leg, under her skirt, finding the tender skin of her tight. Propriety was dead and long buried. She had teased him enough. Amelia would have minded in other circumstances, but this was a stolen moment and she was ready to make the most out of it. She undid the last buttons of his shirt, exposing his chest and abs. This was the farthest they’d ever gone and both of them felt shocked at their own boldness. She ran one hand through the curls of hairs on his torso.

Bradley had never felt that self-conscious, not even in front of the scientists examining him. He hated himself for feeling shy when he’d never did before.

“You don’t have to stare at me like that.”

“But you’re beautiful, King.”

That was the first time she’d told him, that anyone told him that, and he was surprised by how giddy he felt inside. Was giddy even a word applicable to his kind?

“I’m the one supposed to make you feel like that.”

“But you make me feel like that. And the fact you’re a man doesn’t mean you mustn’t feel a thing.”

If only she knew how many things he felt right now. He pulled her back to him, kissing her even deeper than before, having trouble to keep in mind that his left arm wasn’t answering well to moving because he just wanted to touch her, to reach her and keep her where she was. Her hands did things to him, unspeakable things. He was a soldier, a killer and a warrior and a monster and suddenly he felt sensible in ways he hadn’t even imagine. She was hesitant and scared of doing wrong despite her faked assurance, but she still managed to make him groan and moan under her touch. He wasn’t giving her the cold shoulder in response, returning every gesture with a stroke, a caress or a kiss. His fingers explored the skin beneath her shirt, beneath her skirt, looking for the weak spots that would drive her as crazy as he felt. There seemed to be no barrier, no limits, until her hands snaked down his abs, wondering if they continued beneath the waistline of his pants.

They were both in a terrible state of dishevelment and he would have let things take place had they been anywhere else that involved four protecting walls, locked windows, a ceiling above their heads and no insects in any tall grass. Because there were some here and there.

He stopped her hands with his own, raising himself on his good elbow, his shirt hanging open on his shoulders, looking for his breath. Amelia was in the same state, her lips swollen and flushed, her chest moving up and down too rapidly. She looked like the cutest mess he’d ever seen. She blushed and gave him an apologetic look as she felt how much he needed her. True torture, in a less blissful kind this time.

“This has gotten improper enough, don’t you think?”

This was all he could do not to beg that she give him some air before he crossed the line.

“King…” she sighed, getting off of him but sitting closely, so that he could wrap his arms around her and lay his forehead against her own. She held him close, one hand on his back, the other one on his neck.

“Brad, please.” He asked.

She obliged him, in a ton that almost turned him into an animal. He slid his face across her neck, breathing her in. He felt wild and overwhelmed and definitely alive. Was all this really a sin? She was trembling in his arms.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

She nodded softly.

“I… I didn’t think it would get this far.”

“Well, you were encouraging.”

Bradley tried to replace the locks that were falling on her face, but there were too many of them and she hid her face against his chest, her breath tickling his skin.

“No I mean… I hadn’t realize I could be like that.”

She sounded embarrassed and he stroked her back, gently, in a reassuring manner that he kept only for her.

“I guess you were trying to make me understand what we are both missing on if I keep delaying the wedding.”

She blushed furiously, warning him.

“I’m not marrying you to get into your bed!”

“Neither am I. But it’s a really interesting prospect about the deal.”

“How can you be so…!”

Amelia sounded baffled by the way he could turn from sweet to roguish. He shut her up with a kiss, that was less dirty than the last ones but really tender and she was left speechless with a blush on her cheeks.

“All that being said, what just happened… I liked it, but… This can’t happen again. Not until I can carry you in both my arms to a real room and take the time to make love to you like you deserve.”

She gasped in a very unladylike fashion, but her whole attire was unladylike right now. He almost felt bad for her appearance.

“My gosh, don’t… don’t tell me things like that!”

“Why? Is it worse than compromising you here in the open?”

She gave a small laugh at that and they lied next to each other, cuddling close, until their breathing were even and they felt capable of putting their respective clothes back in place and walk back into town without shocking anyone. King had completely let down his guard and was slowly growing wary of their surroundings again.

“Is that smoke?” he asked, his tattooed eye itching under his eye patch.

There was a large column of smoke in the sky, in the direction of the small town.

“But it’s warm enough… Unless someone’s cooking something for supper.”

“It’s too large for that.”

Both of them had an uneasy feeling about this. They started walking a little faster until… Gunshots echoed in the air as they had reached the third field of crops. They ran the rest of the way to the village, - which meant two more fields- reaching their destination breathless in the case of Amelia and King wasn’t too strong on his feet. Pain ran from his left shoulder to the tips of his fingers, reverberating through him because of the run. But what they saw wasn’t good and called for immediate action. Soldiers wearing the red uniforms of Aerugo were attacking the village. How they got that deep into the country was a mystery, but this was bad. Like lethally bad. Wrath knew he could get through this without too much problem, but what about Amelia?

Bradley forced her to kneel behind the first house around the corner, so that they would be out of sight. People were yelling in fears, front doors being forced open and gunshots ringing from the town’s square.

“Oh my god. I have to go check on my parents! Get them out of here while there’s still time.”

But there was no time, it was crazy, he caught her wrist with his left hand, because the love of his life had decided to stand on his damn left.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“I can’t do anything about the soldiers, but I can evade them and take my parents away from here. You can look after the village, find some kind of solution, don’t you?”

He could try, but it was crazy, he had not even one of his swords and no gun –a requirement of being among civilians without any martial law on-, he would have to make a show out of it and anyone left alive would know that he wasn’t human. Not that there would be many civilians left alive. Not that he would let any soldiers alive to speak of his inhuman skills unless he could make them sound demented. But Amelia could not go anywhere near this danger zone.

“I’ll check on your parents.”

“There’s no time for that and you know it. You can take care of this situation on a much bigger scale than that.”

And her trust in him was incredible and at the moment he wanted to prove everything she expected from him, but most of all, he wanted her to be safe and that wouldn’t be easy if not simply impossible.

“I’m not letting you go out in this.”

“This is my hometown.”

They were engaged in a fierce staring contest that was cut short by Amelia suddenly yanking at his left arm, painfully reminding him that he wasn’t in full shape. Fighting wouldn’t be as comfortable as usual. She used her momentum to move away from him and dive into the main street. King mentally cursed and ran right after her. His souls made sure to tell him that he should knock her out in any similar situation that could happen in the future. If there was any future for them.

To be continued…


	20. Now, it's personal!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelia's village was attacked by Aerugo soldiers out of the blue! Bradley knows what it means. But can he face the consequences?

I chose you – Chapter 20 – Now, it’s personal!

Last chapter ended with the following:

_She used her momentum to move away from him and dive into the main street. King mentally cursed and ran right after her. His souls made sure to tell him that he should knock her out in any similar situation that could happen in the future. If there was any future for them._

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Out in the street that were made of earth and mud; chaos was everywhere. Childs were cowering behind parents, people were hurrying away from the center of the town, to be shot at by soldiers standing on higher grounds. They invested the houses to wipe out the people from the roofs. This was a massacre. Like in the first war Bradley had fought against Creta. He looked for Amelia, his heart racing, his mind looking for any way to overturn this invasion. She was nowhere in sight. She had certainly decked for cover. This was her town. She wouldn’t get caught too easily and she had plenty of fight and energy in her. But for calming down angry clients in her aunt’s hotel, not for this kind of…

 _Be safe_ , he thought.

King needed a weapon. His anger was growing. This was impossible. The fights had been easily contained so far at the frontier. He had news from Grumman twice a week. Nothing hinted to such advances. Nothing about this made any sense. He hid between two houses, right where two soldiers were standing on the roof, emptying their rounds on helpless civilians. He used the decorative vines for leverage and got himself up in a matter of seconds. His arm was already begging for mercy, but he paid it no mind. Not now.

As he got his shoulders to the roof’s level, one of the soldiers spotted him. The guy was close to the edge and King used his leg to get himself on the roof. He moved too fast for a human, spotting surprise and shock on his enemy’s face. He threw him off the roof, tackling him with his shoulders. The other one turned around as he heard his comrade yelling. The roof was made of wood tiles and King felt the matter beneath his bare hands. He didn’t stop in his track. Getting himself up in one swift motion, he pushed the soldier backwards, grabbing his gun from his hands. Losing balance, the guy was easily disarmed and even more easily tossed down the roof.

Wrath’s breathing was uneven already and his pulse was too quick. His still wounded arm was a drag. He aimed and fired at every red uniform he spotted on the other roofs. Five less and no new wound to hinder him. Then he jumped back down in the streets, not even giving a look at the people standing around in awe or fear. None of them concerned him.

“Run.” He told the civilians.

He was aiming for the center of the town. His gun had a few more rounds, but not enough and he would need something else soon. He missed his blades. Each new contact between the earth and his feet sent awful tingles of pain in his left shoulder. No more crashing into people and no hit on this side. He hated the impression this wound gave him of being weak.

_Where is she?_

He found himself looking at the corpses, for a disheveled braid or reddish skirt. He didn’t know what he would do if this would happen. He met three soldiers on his way and shot each of them without trouble. But the kills felt unreal. People dropping with their red uniforms. Amelia somewhere, maybe already shot, with her red skirt and white blouse turning crimson. He’d seen too many people dead not to picture it vividly in his mind.

Town square was a freaking war zone. Bullets in the air, rockets launched at the houses. There was no sense in Aerugo’s way of taking the town. The Corsaires’ shop was right there, on the other side seemingly untouched amongst the destruction. Dread filled Wrath’s mind. There was a hole in the ground, large enough for the freaking soldiers to keep coming out from god knew where. But this kind of digging, from another country, that wasn’t done by man and he knew it. He had brought those people here, because of the other homunculi. Sloth must have been mad to change his course. Was it the final punishment for his stubbornness? Where were his orders, the warnings?

Corpses laid everywhere. No time to check them, because the soldiers had already spotted him. He quickly took in his surroundings. King jumped into the butcher’s house, crashing through the windows with his right shoulder. Inside, there was no one, but he wasn’t looking for people. He had gone through all of his rounds. And knifes were better than guns. He grabbed the sharpest, longest he could find and welcomed the soldiers that rushed in after him with his new found blades. One hanged waiting in his left hand, a third one was slipped in his belt, resting on his back.

Cutting through riffles had a nice feeling. It gave him the rush he needed to bolt out as a grenade was thrown inside. He barely blinked the dust from his eye, tears welling up to help him adjust. The explosion behind him threw debris everywhere. A sharp stone grazed his right side, drawing blood. He had a cut on the forehead from breaking the window and it was bleeding all over his eye patch, making his tattooed eye itch. Damn that cursed patch.

He dodged a handful of bullets and choose a few targets as he wondered on a way to fill the hole in the ground. There was no sign of Sloth and he would have bet his human eye that the big guy was far away digging for Father. Amestrian or not, no human was supposed to learn about the homunculi. The church was the only tall building around, her bell up in the air, the arrow on its roof pointing at the sky. The bell was made of metal, pretty large for such a small village. He cut through someone’s shoulders, breaking into a run. His knife was large, meant for meat. He would have to throw as much strength as possible and cut the wood and tiles from both side of the bell tower. But he knew it wouldn’t be a problem. He could cut through steel with his swords. Surely a building would be fine even with some unknown weapons.

He got himself on the roof of the church in one jump – and two steps on the wall- much to the amazement of the soldiers aiming for him. King used their shock to his advantage, his knife digging in the bell tower’s walls. On the right, than on the left. It started to lean and with a shove of his foot, he sent it down, with the bell and everything.

The crash caused even more chaos, but Wrath’s speculations were right. The bell was right in the middle of the hole, effectively crushing the oncoming soldiers and or blocking them under the earth.

“Go back where you belong.”

There was no gunshot’s noise to warn him before that his foot got hit. Sniper’s work. He wished he had some kind of cover, but he knew full well that he didn’t need it. The bullet went right through his bones, throwing him off balance. Unluckily for him, his footing was already shaky, because he had just half crashed a piece of the church. He fell, using the falling debris around him to somehow slow his fall. Something hit his left arm, weakening the barely healed bones. He felt the crack in his appendage and how it suddenly hanged useless at his side. Hitting the ground with both his feet, even if he braced himself for the impact, was almost too much to ask. That was when he heard her yelling.

There was pain and fear in her voice, and even though he never wanted to hear those things from here, he could tell that it was Amelia. It was coming from her parents’ store. Rage, anger and panic took over. He dodged the last few soldiers standing in his way, leaving lifeless meat bags in his wake. And they were lower than dirt in his eyes. Petty humans. Killing mere civilians to show their self-importance. There was no planning, no strategy. He should be glad, because it meant it was so much easier for him to get through them. He sliced guns and flesh alike. The knife would be worthless in a while. Cheap steel. He threw it in the sniper’s face when he finally spotted him, on the rooftop of the store.

Then he barged in, through the window again, his eye patch covered in blood, his right foot begging for relief, his mind overloaded by the various wounds that were holding him back. He switched the other butcher’s knife from his left hand to the right one. Hating himself for being weak, angry at his body for allowing such failures. The broken arm had hindered him, just like the soldier from his squad did when Pride and Sloth had been all over him in a contest of speed and blades. He didn’t want to save his arm, to let it rest. He had felt pain far worse than that. He should be able to withstand it, to be as fast and as deadly as usual. But he was pushing his limits. And he was angry at discovering his human body had damn limits.

Amelia was lying on the floor, with a soldier sitting on her stomach, threatening her with his long gun. King noticed the broken furniture that had been pushed around, the torn skirt on his girl, the angle of one of her feet that seemed off and he could guess on broken bones. He also spotted the broken nose of the soldier who was grapping her hands between his own, straddling her, his gun lowering to her throat.

King had felt anger before. All the time and in a varied range of occasions. He thought he knew utter anger. Ragefull wrath. Loathing and maddening anger. He thought he’d felt them all, but this sight and the feelings it set aflame within his heart were nowhere close. He barely heard the soldier that entered the room behind him. Didn’t feel his teeth snapping together. He couldn’t think, not with the rage everywhere in his blood. There was only one soul left in his shaking body. No voice in his head. He kicked the soldier toppling Amelia to the side, wrapping his good arm around his neck to drag him away and turned his head in one swift motion.

That was a sound he could understand. He barely met her eyes, filled with tears he couldn’t understand, because they meant failure, heartbreak and the destruction of the one thing that kept him sane. He saw her shaking fists, her quivering mouth. The broken buttons on her shirt, her tights exposed, blood on her shoulder, why was her shoulder bare, why was another man touching her? His voice was hoarse, alien as he asked:

“Did he…?”

She shook her head, the ghost of a shake, a movement so thin he thought he’d imagined it. His mind was in a daze. There was a guy behind him, and it meant danger for her, danger for them and he turned around, raising his knife, slashing and hacking. The man’s head rolled to the floor while blood poured from his neck.

Wrath stood where he was, shaking, unable to believe what he’d just done. Not that he’d never done anything similar. But she was right here. She’d seen him do it. And the implications were scary. At the moment, she didn’t seem able to talk, the noise coming from her where her quick breathes and muffled whine of pain. He crept to the door, walking over the fresh corpse and closed it shut, locking it. He checked the few windows. Nothing was moving around the village. No more soldier. The sniper was dead. He dropped his knife. He wanted to bite into something. To throw his fist into someone’s face. His foot throbbed. His heart bled. He blinked away tears from the damn dirt in his eye and finally turned around, running one hand over his face.

Amelia had raised herself on her elbows, moving slowly, for one of her leg was quite hurt. She was trying to hide what she could of herself, her mood from one hour ago entirely gone. He had no idea how to talk to her.

“How did you do that?” she asked him.

He blinked, taken aback.

“What?”

“Chopping off that guy’s head.”

His voice got stuck in his tightening throat.

“I mean, do you do stuff like that often?”

She tried to sound playful, but the fear ringed in her voice. This was a blow he wasn’t ready to take. He managed to walk up to her before to fall to his knees. It was half calculated half his nerves ending and she slightly backed away from him. He was certainly looking worse than any soldier out there. His human eye had trouble focusing on her face, as much as his mind was trying to remind him that she wouldn’t die from her wounds, that things should be fine now. But how could anything be fine, when she had witnessed him like this. When she had been on his battlefield, almost another victim from this raid.

“That man tried to…”

“Help me up, Brad.” She interrupted him, her voice as white as her face.

“Your leg’s broken, isn’t it?”

She winced, before to wink at him.

“So that’s why it hurt so much? Don’t… Why don’t you ask me how I got here?”

He helped her sitting up, steadying her as he could, his knees already hurting against the hard wooden floor.

_Remember to breathe. Remember to listen to everything around you. You can’t focus on her before you’re sure that nothing else is going to attack._

Everything felt dead silent and for once, he wished there was noise, normal, city’s kind of noise, engines roaring, children playing outside, her aunt chatting in the background, anything that would made this feel normal.

“I don’t know what to ask you…” he sighed.

“Well, if you got me started, I’m pretty sure I could rumble on and on about my epic skills of getting here without getting shot or spotted or anything. But I was caught by that soldier as I slipped through the door, so I won’t praise myself too much on my discretion. Though I must say that my auto defense lessons really came in handy.”

“So you broke his nose?”

“And his nuts.” She observed with a lot of seriousness.

As only man could relate to such hurt, King paled slightly, even if he’d done quite worse if he had been fighting against the guy after what he tried on his woman.

“How did he… I mean, breaking bones takes some strength.”

“He crushed my ankle under his foot. And I’d rather not think about it. Are you okay?”

“I…”

She wanted to take care of him, wanted to worry about him, but he could tell there was something else on her mind. Where the hell were her parents?

“Can you help me get in the back? I heard some noises as I entered and I tried to call mom and dad, but…”

A new kind of dread gripped at Bradley’s heart. They wouldn’t do this, would they? He knew his so-called brothers were behind this tragedy already, but…

“Don’t go, Amelia. If they’re not here already…”

He couldn’t say it. He saw that she wouldn’t take it anyway. It was too much. As long as she had hope, she would nurture it and she needed to know. He could almost taste her despair and he knew where that would lead. It would destroy her. Or even worse, it would destroy them.

“Why don’t we look after you first? You need something for that ankle. You…” He was searching for his words, panicked and she smiled softly, despite her tears.

“We can focus on all that later. Beside, that cut is superficial,” she added, pointing her bare shoulder.

The damn soldier had ripped off her sleeve and as he gently brushed her shoulder, following the cut with his thumb, she winced and he could tell muscles had been touched. This needed treatment, treatment he couldn’t give.

“Don’t you have some kind of first aid kit around this store?”

“In the store room, right in the back.”

She wouldn’t give up before him. His good hand grabbed her good shoulder in a firm grip and he looked at her, with an intensity she never saw before.

“Don’t ask me that. I’ll check for you first, I’ll…”

“If the fighting’s over, I need to know if everything’s alright, King. You cannot expect me not to look after my parents.”

And her voice didn’t waver, not now, and he felt ready to obey at any point, but he couldn’t let her see whatever the other had done. If her parents were still alive, they should have come down the stairs or out of the store room. They would check on her. Maybe were they outside, but as he focused on every little thing, he felt a smell, foul, different from the metallic blood and unknown soldiers or villagers. The smell of true sin. He shivered and tried to hide it, but his acting skills were gone with the sweat and the blood.

“You really should look after yourself,” he pointed out.

“And so are you and your state is far worse than mine. If you don’t help me, I’ll drag myself to the back.”

He knew she would persist, even if she was in no shape for persistence. He managed to pull himself back on his feet. She noticed the state of his right foot and gasped in shock.

“I swear, Amelia, if something bad is waiting for us on the other side of that door, I’ll drag you out.”

He was not letting her rush to hold corpses. She looked at him with defiance and hope and fear and so many things in her eyes, it was hard to hold her gaze. He pulled her up, as gently as possible. She was forced to lean on his right side, because his left arm couldn’t move and they were both in pain.

“You shouldn’t walk on that feet.” She sighed, gazing down at the hole of blood in the middle of his boot

“There are many things I shouldn’t do right now. Save your ankle.”

It took them about four steps to reach the back door, but it was hell on earth. The other side was worse. The door leading outside from the store room was dented inside, shattered wood everywhere. Sadly, it brought in plenty of light to see clearly what had been done in here. And the stink of blood was strong enough for Amelia to cover her mouth with her hand. Before that she spotted both of them.

Her mother was on the floor, closer to them, her face stuck in an expression of excruciating pain. Blood covered the floor beneath her form. The upper part of her body was fine, but where her stomach once was, there was a hole, and…

King blinked as he felt Amelia tensing in his hold. Her breathing stopped. There was something on the other side of the room. They’d both looked away instantly at the gory spectacle. There wasn’t much left of her dad. But sadly, it was still clearly him. It was worse than anything Wrath would have imagine. He dragged her back, shutting the door on the horror as she cried out, shocked beyond shock.

“This can’t be… This just…”

There was no words to answer her. All he could think was to hold her to his chest. They were both shaking. But the whole situation had gone way past Amelia’s limits. And she was breaking down. She let out an inhuman yell against him, a sound coming from deep down, animalistic. He held her close, wishing she’d just cry it out, until she was too tired to stand on her one leg, too tired to think about who or what could possibly do this. But the shock was too great and Amelia had to talk out loud, as they held on each other, as they tried to remain afloat despite the pain.

“There was nothing left. There was…”

She retched, quickly pushing him away in a flash of rationality and threw herself to the floor, throwing up bile. Her eyes were dry, as if the shock was stronger than the pain that shook her. Bradley let himself slid down to the floor, sitting with his back to the door, preventing her from going back to check again. There was no way he’d let her see any of this again.

“They pulled her insides out.” She cried out.

Her eyes were wide, he saw blood vessels in them and for once she wasn’t pretty, because her face was distorted by grief, and pain and confusion and loss and…

_Don’t say it._

“You saw it like me, right? What… How could they leave nothing but half of dad’s head!”

_Don’t, just don’t, don’t look at me, don’t be bright on this one. Stop this, stop hurting yourself._

“No human could do that. No animal’s big enough...”

She was trying to rationalize this to make it hurt less. It wasn’t working, but she would try anyway. And she’d break him too. She straightened herself, her wide eyes staring at him. Falling on the bloody eye patch. And a recognition he’d never seen painted her face in a new light.

“Only a monster could…”

His breathing was ragged and painful. He felt too weak. And her eyes told him that she suddenly saw him for what he was. Not human. She extended one hand, pulling the eyepatch off. Flinching at the sight of his tattooed eye. Not a homunculus either, but something in between. Something that shouldn’t exist. Not even someone.

“Amel…”

“What did _they_ do to them?!”

Her voice was broken but also fierce and King was powerless in front of her pain. He wanted to go back to the blue sky and soft grass, back to her smile and gentle hands. Instead, she grabbed his shirt with fingers like talons, ready to demand and for once he had no strength to defend himself. This wasn’t an enemy. This could never be… But fear stilled itself in his heart and it was hard to stand her gaze.

“Don’t ask me that.” He pleaded.

“So it was _them_? It really was…”

“I’m sorry.”

Apologizing was so beneath a king, but he felt lower than low. His brothers were gone, their deeds done. This was a test. For which of them, he had no idea, but he was pretty sure he was failing.

“It’s not your damn fault, Brad, don’t make me believe it is!”

And tears went down her cheeks at that, because it hurt her to hurt him, because she wanted comfort and what she saw was someone as shaken as her. But his eye was there, alien, unnatural. In his chest, King felt his heart beating awkwardly, as if hope was back.

“Tell me what they did to him.”

“No.”

What good would it do her to know? Maybe she wanted to make sure that her father didn’t have to suffer too much, that things were over quickly. Humans worried about those details. And he realized that he did too, when she was concerned. He couldn’t tell her and his jaw was set firmly, meaning cuddling and nice smiles wouldn’t be enough. But cuddling was far from her mind. She knew this whole disaster was partly his fault. If not for him in her life, her parents would still be there. It torn her apart to feel this, knowing that he didn’t meant for this to happen, knowing that her parents were forever gone and that all she wanted was to hurt someone, anyone. Even him. Especially him. He saw it in her eyes, but he felt like he owed it. That was guilt, uncalled for guilt and he should keep her away, but the idea she would really try to hurt him, that she could physically hurt him was preposterous. But she had proved him wrong already.

Amelia pressed on his left arm, hard, right where the bones were shifting when they shouldn’t be and he cried out in agonizing pain, unable to hold it in.

“I need to know how…”

It made no sense to her, that half her father face could be lying on the floor. The picture was grotesque, only one eye, all the hair still there on top, the skin merely… She didn’t ease the pressure on his broken arm and he tried to push her away, feeling torn between survival instincts and all that he felt for her. He managed to wrench her hands away from him, holding her wrists tightly in his good hand, breathing hard.

 _Don’t make me hurt you_ , he begged inwardly.

But if she didn’t get any answer she would other ways to hurt him, kicking at his right foot, crying and yelling at him like a madwoman.

“He ate him.” He answered, his face paler than ever, tears coming out, his whole body shuddering from the pain she was putting him through.

Amelia blinked, before to retch again, but nothing would come out this time. King looked for a way out, any way to make it less gross and awful. But there was none.

“Did he hurt?” she asked with her wavering voice.

 _Stop making it worse_.

“I…”

She wasn’t struggling against him anymore and he let go of her wrists, but when she leaned over him, he raised his right arm defensively, despite everything his heart was telling him.

Trust was broken on both sides. She’d never hurt him. And physical pain was nothing compared to her eyes staring accusingly at him. And her voice sounded cold, because she couldn’t be comprehensive. She had lost a brother already. He knew she loved her parents. He knew what it meant, because she was breaking his heart a little more with the venom in her voice as she whispered, in a calm tone:

“You already knew.”

“Wh… what?”

“When you entered the house, you already knew, didn’t you?”

“What are you… talking about?”

Where was the perspective Fuhrer he was supposed to be? Where was the man she’d promised to love hours earlier? It was supposed to be him, right? She was supposed to be his, but he had failed her. This wasn’t his entire fault, though. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. _Please._

“Who caused this. And that my parents were dead.”

“’Meli…”

“Don’t you dare say my name!”

Her anger was so understandable, he felt it too, he felt it twice as strong, thrice as much. But he wished he could comfort her somehow, anyhow. Would she let him?

“I didn’t plan any of this, if that’s what you’re asking. I never wanted…”

His voice broke down under her scrutiny and the wall between them felt so thick, so absolute. It couldn’t go away. It was over. He felt sobs gathering from deep within his chest and going all the way up. But had he any right to break down himself?

“I’m not… I’m not trying to say that you’re the bad guy. But you can snap necks and chop heads and…”

The broken sob made it past the trembling of his shoulders. It rang in his left arm. Burst out of his throat in a chocked breath. He was ashamed of himself for being this weak, but this was too much, even for him. Amelia seemed to soften, but her hands felt threatening still and his protective reaction at her approach was enough to keep her away. His arm ached, his side was bleeding, his foot throbbed and there was a hole in his chest that he could almost feel, aching more than all the rest.

Her green eyes widened at the sight and he wished she’d looked away, but they were both so far gone already.

“You cry with both your eyes.” She mused.

As if having an inhuman eye meant he didn’t cry like the rest of them. The strangled sobs won over him at that. Her anger turned into grief and pain and she whimpered, just as exhausted and sorry as him.

“I didn’t mean…”

“Stop, Amelia, just… please…”

He had no idea what he was asking from her. Had no idea if her eyes could look at him with something else than tears one day. Her hands reached out for him. Her shoulders hung low, defeated. She wouldn’t torture him, not on purpose, not again. He feared any retribution, but he let her drag herself closer to him, until she managed to sit in his lap despite her broken ankle, so she could wrap her arms around him and he could finally held her, hiding his head against her good shoulder, that one which wasn’t bared. They both smelled of blood and sweat. His sobs were making him shake more, which hurt like hell. She shook just as much. But at least, she was asking for his comfort and trying to give him some. Exhaustion took over them somewhere in between their tears and sighs of pain and shudders.

When King woke up again, she was gone. Her hands, her warmth, her breathing in his hair. Gone. All he could feel was the heartache.

To be continued…


	21. Life goes on... with or without you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley has to get back to his feet. And endure.

I chose you – Chapter 21 – Life goes on… with or without you

He’d never pushed himself in such condition. In his sleep, voices talked to him, whispering in his dreams that everything was over. This test had showed him what Amelia truly saw in him. How she would take advantage of weakness and go on to hurt him, just because she hurt more. She was gone, gone and there was no way he could face her after being… He shuddered even in his sleep.

_Weak, Wrath. You were weak._

He’d never felt a pain as raw as the one he’d felt when she was holding onto him as if she was drowning. He had been drowning. His throat still felt tight and dry. His mind was a puzzle of mixed-up emotions, edgy feelings, dreadful thoughts and ache, so much ache. Heart in pieces. He remembering hearing stupid notions like those. He wanted to push it away, with the awful pictures, with the idea that Glutonny ate her father, that if she had shown in her house a few minutes earlier, she could have been slashed to pieces or eaten herself.

Her name was resonating in his mind. He tried to shove it away, to swallow it back. He needed sleep, true, healthy sleep, not those nightmares. He heard Lust whispering to him that Amelia had showed how human she was.

“She’ll never be strong enough to follow you.”

 _Who would be if it means going through that?_ He would have retorted if his voice worked.

But he was voiceless, a motionless being etched in pain and dark blood. A pulsating wound, seeping blood. Half a head, lying on the ground. A monster, a monster.

“She’s not the right choice for you, brother.”

“You were meant for much much more.”

“You could have been perfect.”

“You could have been like us.”

“But you’re weak. Like those stupid humans.”

And he didn’t wanted to be anymore, if it meant hurting like that. But the suffering had some kind of meaning, hadn’t it? He was still breathing, still thinking. He wasn’t entirely broken already, or was he? His legs kicked off the sheets from the bed as he jerked awake, breathing heavily, thuds of a beard on his cheeks, his arms flailing around him, tied to the bed by restraints that made him all the more anxious.

 _Control it, control the anger, the fear. Channel it._ He tried to convince himself.

His mind was empty, without any soul left to tell him what to do. And he wondered what was left. Was it the original one, the spirit he’d been born with? Hadn’t the scientist crushed it long ago? Or was it still him. Who the heck was he? How do you define a man-made monster, contradicting everything the natural science thought him?

12\. Wrath. King. Bradley. Military dog. Youngest brother to a bunch of abominations. Son to a cupid Father that was far from fatherly or anything close to it. Brad. Messed-up wannabe lover that couldn’t achieve a courtship without getting his in-laws killed. And he was still tied up while a beast was howling in his heart and Amelia was nowhere in sight but the memories where fresh, fresh and vivid and deep and…

He blinked, trying to collect his thoughts. _Breathe in, Brad, breathe._ The room was small, merely made for efficiency. A bowl of water was sitting on the table next to him. There was no window, the only light came from the lone bulb on the ceiling. Oh military lab. He remembered the dormitory. The brain rotten comrades. Gold tooth. And he was still tied up, like he had been on the day they injected him the stone. His left arm was healed up. His right feet didn’t hurt. He didn’t feel any pullback in his muscles. He was back in shape. Someone might have use a philosopher stone on him. He knew what they were made off. He knew Amelia might become part of it one day. She might already be. What use was she to them?

All at once, his entire being missed her, forgiving the hurt, the harsh glares she’d given him, the painful gestures she’d had against him. He just wanted something to be right in his mockery of a life. _Breathe, don’t think about her, don’t try to mimic the souls that you lost, they weren’t a part of you, King, they…_

But they’d been. And it felt lonely, having no voice to comfort him, to cheer or berate him. Knowing that if he tried going to Amelia, she might turn him back. She might even try worse. Or give him the silent shoulder. His throat constricted and all his childhood’s fears popped back, one by one, the dark room feeling too empty, the ties on his arms and ankles burning into his muscles as he tried to get himself up. He wouldn’t call on anyone. There was no voice in his dry throat. Like in those nightmares where you can barely move, where you try to call for help, to yell out your fear because it can only make it less scary, but the whisper coming out from your lips sounds like a gasp of wind.

_If they inject me another stone, I’ll die and it will have mean nothing at all._

Despair was so beneath him. But he had fallen. He wasn’t broken yet, but he wasn’t too far from it.

How long had he been sleeping here? How does one sleep while tied up like that? He needed to curl on himself, to punch something, someone, to feel physical pain instead of all this anxiety.

_If I die, she will have lost her parents for nothing._

That with the hunger, thirst and utter confusion he felt were enough to send him in a panic. He threw the bed down, pulling on the restraints like a wild beast, madly trying to free himself. His muscles had thinned. He had been sleeping for more than a few days. The recovery had taken some kind of toll on him. But his nerves and bones would have to be enough to get himself out of there. Grumman showed up, looking the worse for wear, with a flock of nurses that had nothing to do with the scientists from his childhood.

“King, come on, don’t react like that.”

“Untie… me.” He managed to bark back as Grumman worked on keeping him down while the nurses prepared an injection.

“We’re doing this for your own good!” his friend told him.

“No… inject…”

As the syringe seemed ready, he panicked even more, managing to pull off a restraint from one of his leg, almost twisting his ankle as he did. Grumman crushed him down, using his weight to immobilize him, which was only half working.

“Give us space girls. No tranquilizers.” The blond soldier gasped.

That seemed to reach King and he quieted down immediately, which in turn got the nurses to obey Eli’s orders.

“Help me, ladies. Let’s untie him and get his bed straight.”

King refused to get back on the bed, so they let him sat on the floor and gave him a glass of water that he was cautioned to drink slowly. He listened, feeling weak after his little crisis. A few nurses got out of the room while Grumman sat next to the patient, waiting for him to regain his voice.

“You’ve scared us a great deal, buddy.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Two weeks. You made some miraculous recovery from the wounds you had when you were rescued by the villagers. Central dispatched help for you in no time and you were back in less than a day. Someone from my unit discovered the tunnel Aerugo dug under our lines. We have no idea how they managed it. They’re still filling it back up. You pulled a miracle out there.”

“What about…”

King looked down to his hands, his gruff voice unable to voice her name. He knew it would break in his throat and he was over emotional breakdown.

“Amelia’s fine. They brought her back, put their best medical alchemists on her or something. She’s fully recovered and has been sent back to her aunt. I heard she got back to work a week ago. Members from both our squads visit her and she’s welcoming and kind, as she’s always been. She’s one strong woman, your girl.”

Wrath’s face turned whiter than the sheets on the bed and he laughed, in a heartbroken way. Hated himself for it, but it couldn’t be any other way.

“My girl, huh? I bet you’re wrong on that, Eli. But I don’t…”

He saw the grief and the sympathy in his friend’s eyes. And something else, like pure empathy for what was happening to him.

“Let’s not dwell on that. What about… the war?”

“Oh, it’s not over. We might be sent back if they think we’re ready. I asked a permission to be back here when I…”

It was Eli’s turned to turn pale and King let his mind run wild. What could possibly hurt a grown man like Grumman? Juliett was doing fine, so was her son. His ex-wife was the last of his concerns. Last he’d heard, Anna-Elisabeth had given birth to a beautiful blond girl and… King remembered what he’d thought last time. That Liz was too small, too frail for that burden.

“It’s not…”

How he could still feel compassion when he felt so broken inside, Bradley couldn’t tell. If it had been anyone else to greet him as he woke, Lust, Envy, he would have turn into the monster Amelia thought she saw when she gazed at his tattooed eye. But Eli was the first man who had been kind to him when he had no idea how to fit in this human society the scientists hadn’t prepared him for. He knew the man trusted him. And even though he knew Grumman would never understand him entirely, he also trusted him far more than he did all the other soldiers. He had been his lieutenant for years. Brothers in their mission to look over Juliett. Messing around each other, being playful, King accepting to act childishly since he never had a chance to before.

“You hungry, man?”

Eli didn’t want to bring his friend down.

“There’s only two reason a soldier go back home while the war is still on. Being crippled or death in the family. You seem to be doing alright in the health department.” Though now that he looked at him, King saw dark bags under his eyes. “It’s obviously not your ex, you didn’t remarry and…”

King was answered by a long sigh.

“If we talk about this, I need a strong drink. And you need something in your stomach.”

Grumman helped him up and they went down to the military’s cafeteria, which was quite empty at this hour of the day. King ate as slowly as possible, even though he was starving. He had been nurtured with alchemy and he was quite sure later his Father would tell him it had been a few philosopher’s stones that had healed him up so quickly. Eli even accepted to share his rum with Brad after half the bottle was down and none of the story had come out.

“Did you smuggle alcohol in military quarters?”

“I might have. Not that there is many people around. They’re all out on the fronts or in the hospital.”

King gulped down his first sip and relished in the burning sensation in his throat. Dulling his senses sounded like the right thing to do right now. He’d get back to his quarters and sleep the stress off, before to check on Father and to go into some extensive training. But first things first.

“I think you’ve drank enough to tell me.”

“You know you’re pretty sharp for a guy who slept for two whole weeks?”

“As a blade. Now spill man.”

It wasn’t meant to sound harsh and Eli smiled sadly, before to report, trying to sound detached and to get it over quickly.

“Liz got sick. There were more complications than she let me know about the birth. She was losing blood every day for months. She died last week. I got back four days ago and when I heard about you, I tried to get a hold of your situation. I missed the funerals, but I visited her grave. Brought flowers, you know the stuff. I have three more days before going back on the front.”

As Grumman motioned to take another sip, Bradley grabbed his glass and emptied it on the floor. Eli didn’t show anger and the lone maid washing the table at the far corner of the dining hall let out a small gasp, before to resume her work after meeting King’s glare.

“You had had enough. And you shouldn’t go back. You’re in no shape to order guys around.”

“So I let you go back in my stead and get all the medals and glory? My baby girl’s dead Brad. It means that I have nothing left but my rank and money. What good will it do if I…?!”

“I don’t think I’m going back either. Not now. I need to train, you know, get back into shape.”

Eli agreed, before to shake his head, seeming ready to blow up.

“The higher-ups were comprehensive, you know how the Fuhrer is about losing a kid. They were ready to keep me paid doing nothing for the next four months. But I can’t stay here. The city makes me sick. Seeing those streets, the rocks where she scrapped her knees as a girl. The mansion where I took her for her first ball. Her schools, her favorite shops...”

King didn’t know what to tell him. He wanted to yell at him to get himself in order. That this had been predictable enough and that if he’d been a little stricter with the girl, she’d been less foolish, or well, that her foolishness would have brought lesser results. But it was wrong. Eli was a loving and caring father. He hadn’t much control on his daughter’s life. Anne-Elisabeth had made her choice.

“Did you see her baby?”

He snapped at that:

“That cursed thing?! She’s the whole reason my Lizzie’s gone!”

That revived King’s anger and he slammed both of his hands on the table, making the rum’s bottle topple over. The glass shattering didn’t seem enough, so he said, in a severe but calm voice:

“Lizzie’s gone because she was too young for the baby, too young for gallivanting around with a good for nothing alchemist boy. You know it. You knew it when she told you. You tried to convince her to get rid of that _cursed_ thing, but she refused. It was her decision. Her family. Your family. And now you’re pushing what’s left of it away because you’re hurt.”

Grumman looked infuriated. His eyes were wide, his lips twitched with anger and sorrow and he was clearly looking for a reply, something that would put Bradley back in his place. But somehow, the hollowness of King’s cheek, the grey color of his skin, so far from the healthy, incredibly too strong and awkward guy he knew reminded him that King was hurting as much as him. His shoulders sagged and Wrath saw the tears threatening to fall down at the corners of his eyes. Eli was a good, honest and humorous guy. The type of human that would get on his nerves on a few occasions, but also the very type of humans that make them likeable to him. Seeing him in pain hurt. In a different way than what had happened with Amelia, but King realized he couldn’t push them back. Because he felt close to them. He knew their pain. He understood them. He might be able to show them the way. And then he’d find his own way. What was the saying? A blind man guided by a blind man…?

“I really shouldn’t be putting you down with this stuff. And you’re buying me another bottle for that one you just broke.”

“Sure, Eli. But I’ll drink the first half.”

“Then we’ll go visit Liz. If you feel moody and dark, like your usual self.”

The clumsy joke worked and for a moment, they thought they could get through this. Then King felt his eye aching and winced.

“Everything alright?” Grumman asked him.

“Yeah, just… ghost pain or something.”

“How old are you already? Is it white hair I see on your temples?”

And it went bad from there.

“You’re the old geezer here, colonel Grumman!”

“How dare you…!”

“You’re a grandpa so I have a right to say it!”

“Then, I’ll call you Bradboy. I bet you’re still a virgin after all this time…”

King didn’t control himself enough to refrain his blush and Grumman cried in victory: “Ha!”

“I’m gonna start my training on your face!”

“Would you threaten a superior officer?”

“Superior my ass!”

The young maid was shocked to see the famous colonel Grumman running like a little kid, pursued by a half joking half serious King Bradley, who was twice a hero in the eyes of Central’s people.

…

The next morning, King was training in the courtyard, running laps as if his life depended on it, which was true in his mind. He was convinced that if he had been stronger and faster, he could have save Amelia’s parents. Or at least prevent himself for getting hurt by the other homunculi and thus not find himself in Amelia’s village which would mean that he wouldn’t have been obliged to save her parents. Or to be a threat to the village by being there. He ran over the whole training course, spared with invisible partners, cut down trees and abandoned houses before to run more laps and do more squats. His personal infirmary was following him around, trying to convince him to slow down a little and forcing him to drink enough water to stay hydrated.

“You’re pushing yourself.”

“Only a train wreck could stop him in this state and I doubt he would stop at all,” a sultry voice observed.

King turned to the newcomer when he heard her nurse bid him goodbye and walk away. He was half naked in the courtyard, his lungs burning, his whole body aching from the strain, but still ready to train more. Lust was standing there, wearing her own nurse’s uniform, her hair tied in a bun behind her head. She looked annoyed and Wrath smiled to his only sister.

“What is it? Dad missed me while I was gone?”

She pinched her nose, her eyes turning into slits.

“Actually, he kinda does. Would you be so kind to take a shower and get down to meet him ASAP?”

“What’s with the would-you-be-so-kind treatment?”

“You stink and there’s not much aeration down. I’m the one washing things up this week so I’d rather not have your smell there.”

“I see. I’m not going to be slashed to pieces or sentenced to die in a pit of acid or something?”

She looked around them, wrapping her arms around herself, looking unsure and nervous for one of the first time since he’d met her.

“Could you try to sound a little more normal?”

“I’ve been in a delirious sleep for the last two weeks. Of course I don’t sound normal. Relax, sis.”

She frowned, her lips pinched in a thin line.

“You are **not** calling me that.”

“So I guess you have nothing to do with what happened two weeks ago?” he asked, walking up to her, a sword in each hand, looking incredibly menacing despite his calm air. Or maybe was it because he looked so calm that Lust took one step back.

“Control your emotions, pretty nurse. I didn’t know you could get flustered so easily. Unless you feel guilty about something? Did Father gave you one of his speech? Or a good spanking for acting out of turn? I have the impression things got a little overboard with our family.”

She slapped him in the face, holding her composure, except for her furrowed brows and angry glare. King didn’t flinch, giving her a smile from under his moustache. He looked like a shark in front of his prey and the glint in his eye was a scary promise of what could happen to her if he decided to act out of turn.

“I like it when you try to intimidate me, you’re turning into a big boy.”

That would have worked a few months earlier and make him believe he’d walked right into her hands. He just took the compliment and motioned for her to lead the way. He knew she had expected him to be beaten, fragile and full of doubt. But he wasn’t. And he wasn’t losing any time on his training schedule with stupid showers. Father wanted to see him, fine. It’d better be quick.

…

Bradley was in for a surprise. Father had gathered everyone, except Sloth, who was working, again. And for once, Envy didn’t look like he wanted to be there, neither did Lust and Gluttony was clutching to her hand like a lost little boy.

Lurking in the shadows, Pride was looking with a few of his eyes.

“I heard you ran a new test for your brother Wrath, my children. And I must say that I’m highly dissatisfied with your conduct. Wrath must become Fuhrer. Being crippled, which would be tremendously difficult for him, would mean starting over. There’s a limit to the kind of damage an average human can withstand and recover from without getting unwanted attention.”

Wrath felt a mix of anger and happiness that seemed dangerous and he tried to fuel his calm on the anger, so that no cocky smile would appear on his face. His brothers and sister were getting reproaches. He was expecting some too, but this was almost too good to be true. The blond monster looked to him, his anger turning into something else.

“You’ve played your part, protecting the humans and got yourself medals and fame, which is good. You also killed every enemy soldiers, even though that almost killed you. I had to give up a precious part of my blood to get you back in shape.”

“And I’m grateful,” he humbly retorted.

Not too quickly so that it wouldn’t sound prepared. Not too slowly, so that it wouldn’t seem like a lie. Father’s eyes flashed with recognition and Pride shied away, angry to see Wrath getting on the good side of their Father. Envy was definitely envious and Glutonny still looked scared. Lust stood with dignity, taking it in. Once more, Wrath thought that his sister had more class than all the other put together.

“Why aren’t you all like Wrath? Obedient and capable of working as a team.”

“This is all a misunderstand…”

“I didn’t give you permission to speak Envy! You were created to obey my will, all of you. You know what I do to those who disappoint me. You can play around with humans to a certain point. But not with this one.” He added, pointing King.

Acid was fuming somewhere in the dark, Brad could smell it. He waited while Father let a discomforting silence settling over them. He waited until Pride had bowed to Father, until Gluttony had sit down and Lust was sitting on the fool’s shoulder. He waited until Envy seem to shrink over himself, before to nod that it was understood. Then and only then, King cleared his throat to get Father’s attention. The others stood, in different state of shock.

“I’ve heard you healed the woman who was with me at the time of the attack.”

Father looked slightly annoyed.

“Your country girl, right?”

“Why? I thought you despised her.”

“I thought it would make a good story in the papers if you saved her without too many casualties. And it did.”

As simple as that. Father did like reading papers while knowing he’d controlled some part of the news. Bradley wanted to ask more, but it felt wrong with the other homunculi listening. And could he claim her when he had no idea if she would take him back?

“Anything else, Wrath?”

“As the Fuhrer’s wife, she’d be more useful to our plan alive than dead.”

“Really?”

“Perfect for keeping the illusion of my humanity to the world.”

“If you think so. You seem to have sound judgment. You’ll need it to recruit the people from the army that will share our secrets.”

Wrath acquiesced and walked out before that Father dismissed him. He went back to his training, punching dummies till his knuckles were bleeding so that he could collapse in his bed without reliving the horrific nightmares. When he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, he decided to fish out the few letters he had from Amelia. Half way through them, he read the biggest lie he’d told her. About making this country a better one. Justice and…

Why not make it real? Father was on his side. Amelia could be his. That would wait until he felt strong enough to face her. But he had fame and fortune would follow when the ranks would open to him. Already, on the training ground and within the army quarters, people knew his name and looked up to him. The members from his squad were impatient to have him back on the frontlines with them. A week of training later, he rushed to Aerugo with the first train and ended the war in a blood bath that gave him all the revenge and place he needed to let out his anger about what had happened. And he started talking more to his fellow soldiers, even if they weren’t Eli Grumman. He knew all of their names already, but he shared stories, drinks and laughs with them. Tasted watermelon and discovered that falling in love with food was possible.

By the end of the war, Bradley’s squad was known as the best of Central’s army. He’d selected his men and women himself, among the ones he had trained years back. The guy who’d gotten in his way was alive and he saved him three time, to make up for Amelia’s parents who had been killed. He still despised most of them, but not for the same reason. They were weak, sometimes stupid, but they were his men. They had his back and he would bring most of them back home. All if possible. Soon, he realized that they would gladly die for him, because they thought he’d do the same. He let them believe it. The nightmares got less traumatic and more emotional. He wouldn’t wake up screaming, but sleeping was keeping him on edge because he kept on seeing the same woman over and over again.

_Amelia Corsaire._

He missed her. When the other guys or girls would talk of their beloved or family, they’d know King was thinking about a certain country girl. Some suggested that he wrote to her, but he couldn’t. What he needed to ask her couldn’t be written on paper. She wouldn’t answer unless he was standing right in front of her. A few women tried to flirt with him, because he was quite a catch and had a bright future in the army. Some wanted comfort from his strong arms, other simply wished to forget. He gently pushed them away. No warmth could feel the same as hers. No eyes, no matter how close the green of her own, no hands, no smile. He had made a choice at some point after meeting her. It wasn’t some kind of weird duckling instinct to focus on the first thing he’d associated with a woman or a mother or…

Heck, he would never tell anyone else about his secret. He missed her and the last picture he had from her was a mix between the disheveled girl kissing him madly and the one with her shoulder bleeding and broken ankle who was trying to crush his bones in his flesh so that he would reveal what he knew about her parents’ death. God, he missed her.

She might have moved on, but he doubted it. And he certainly hadn’t.

…

Back in Central, the New Year had started and winter was cold and harsh. The streets were often covered in ice and nothing could remove it. Amelia had forbid her aunt from going out, because a fall could mean her demise, or a terrible cold that would end up being her demise too. The young woman was ferociously defending what she had left. She was a shadow of herself in most aspects, but her tentative smile was back. Her eyes had a dull glow, her hair were always kept in a tight and heavy bun on her head, making her look a little too strict. She was the only one running around the town to get herself groceries. And where she would go, people talked.

The fact she was King Bradley’s fiancée was no longer a secret to anyone. The entire city knew about the attack on her village. They knew how a lone soldier had protected his beloved’s home and did the impossible to keep her alive. Other girls were envious of her. Older women were sorry for her losses. The men wondered what she had so special. Some really bold people would stop her in the middle of the streets to ask her opinions over the changes with the war. Kids wanted to know if she had scars from the attack.

It was kinda overwhelming not to be able to be treated as anyone else. To have King forced into her face in the newspapers and his budding fans. She wanted to forget, but Central wouldn’t let her. Was she still going to marry the man? When was the wedding going to be? He was a colonel now and one of the youngest the army had ever seen. That showed promise. But where was he?

She wouldn’t answer to curious strangers. She accepted to make small talk to many of them. The hotel was bustling with activity and on the business side, things were looking up. But it also meant that King wouldn’t be able to show up there and for them to have any privacy. And he was just a war hero. What would it be when he’d become Fuhrer?

…

King got down from the train and walked right into the muddy half melted snow. It was raining, for some twisted reason. He felt moody and brooding. The war was over, but he still missed her. Central was waiting for him and as he got back to the casern and changed into civil clothes, after a warm but short shower, he realized that he had been denying himself for too long. Being afraid was beneath a king. He had to face Amelia.

An hour later, dressed in his finest clothes and civilian’s jacket, he was standing in front of the hotel. It felt so familiar and foreign. His feet had taken him there so many times. And it could be the last time.

Clearing his throat and gathering his courage, he walked in. Amelia’s aunt was sitting behind the counter, updating her registry. There was a bustle of voices and shuffling feet upstairs. Many rooms were checked. He saw a bun of brown hair disappearing through the kitchen door. The woman of his dream was cooking, even if it was already late.

“What are you doing here?” his hostess asked, looking utterly pissed.

“I need to talk to her.”

He was used to the glares the woman gave him by now. But if eyes could kill, no philosopher stone could have brought him back tonight.

“Sure you do. But there’s nothing to explain.”

“I won’t let you decide that for her.”

He spoke a little louder and a gasp could be heard from the kitchen. Amelia had recognized him. To his surprise, she didn’t rush out to see him and throw stuff at him. She didn’t rush out at all. A bell rang and Amelia’s aunt left him standing in front of the counter, to join her niece in the kitchen.

Bradley had no intention of going there uninvited, especially since there were knifes and other pointy objects that could be used against him. He waited, until what sounded like a dispute could be heard and that a disheveled Amelia walked out of the kitchen, despite her aunt’s reasoning.

“I think you would wait a year or two before you had the nerve to show up.” She greeted him with a tired voice.

He winced. Oh that sounded bad.

“I… Just tell me if we’re over.”

She blinked, shocked by the desperation in his words, despite the fact he stood tall and straight, with his jaw firmly set, looking unscathed. His good eye barely flashed a hint of pain for an instant. And he still missed her.

“You want us to be over?” was all she could blurt out.

And that gave him hope, for better or for worse. She saw the change in his composure, the sudden light on his face and it took some of her fatigue away.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” Bradley suggested.

She considered their options, understanding he’d rather talk away from her aunt’s ears.

“I’m too tired for a walk.” She protested.

“We’ll grab a cab, anything. I can take you out for a dinner, or…”

She smiled at his eagerness, while standing away from him, her body language making it clear she needed to keep her distances from him. There was something in her eyes, something harsh, like doubt, and that was new.

“It sounds lovely, King. I’ll grab my coat, you call the cab.”

A moment later, they were entering a cozy restaurant where the patrons could seat in private rooms to eat. Their table was in a round alcove, surrounded by cushioned seats that could welcome two sitters at a time. She sat on the same side of the table as him, so that their exchange wouldn’t feel as confrontational. They waited until food was served and King made sure their waiter wouldn’t come back before he was called, giving him some extra tip.

Banalities had been exchanged, about the easy subjects, like weather, their choice of dish for the night and the latest news in the paper, over a certain opera girl singing for the next two weeks in Central’s main theatre. Amelia seemed stressed out and worried.

“Lots of work at the hotel?”

“We had to engage two other girls to get all the work down. They usually back me when I take my vacancies, but…”

He let the silence hang between them, not sure of where she wanted the conversation to go. He was ready to give her time if it was what she needed.

“King, please, let’s stop this. You came to see me for a reason.” She declared, putting her hands on the table.

He fully turned to her.

“I missed you, Amelia. For the last four months. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“You could have write.”

“Would you have written back?”

She sighed.

“I don’t know.”

“And do you have any idea what I could have write? How’s the shoulder doing? Do you sleep well at night? Do you still have nightmares about it? Thousand time the word sorry to make sure you know how I feel?”

She frowned, closing her arms over her chest.

“How am I supposed to know how you feel when you leave me in the dark for months? I’m sick of that. And my shoulder is fine.” She added, looking slightly annoyed.

“I heard they gave you medical treatment, the army and… They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

She laughed, that angry, sick laugh she had when he said something crazy that pained her.

“How could they? After what happened, I don’t think anything could get to me again.”

“So you really hate me…”

She looked at him with disbelief written all over her face.

“You never believe what I tell you, do you?” Amelia asked him in a softer ton.

That gave him more hope and he wanted to be angry with himself for believing one second that she could.... But then she killed what was left of his anger by adding:

“I said before that I could never hate you. I thought you weren’t showing up because **you** hated me.”

“What?!”

He was dumbfounded. How could she think…?

“Oh Brad, I’m sorry for what happened. For losing my mind and yelling and hurting you. It gets to me. Everything gets to me right now.”

She turned to him, tears in her eyes and he felt compelled to ease her sadness.

“So you’re not…”

“I still love you King. If I have to lose you too, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Words weren’t enough to answer that. He could have worked against yells, sobs, anything. But this, this was undoing all the ice he’d poured around himself during the last weeks. He gathered her in his arms, a wave of relief running through his nerves.

“I’ve had nightmare you would say it was over. Again and again I re-enacted it in my mind like a masochist. I can never compensate what you lost, and I…”

“But you as I know you, you’ll try. And I’m not asking for compensation.”

“What is it you want?”

She gently pushed him back, her hands resting on his arms, her mind clearly filled with contradicting thoughts. He wanted to kiss any doubt away, but he angrily waited, like he’d learned to.

“I don’t know. My parents to be alive. My brother to be alive. My aunt to be healthy. Your smile, your arms around me. Believing that life is simple without monsters lurking in the dark, threatening to hurt me just to get to you. Simple stuff, huh?”

His eyes were rounder than ever and she laughed at the look on his face before to blink her eyes, realizing…

“I almost forgot the one real answer to that question. I want to know if you still want me.”

She blushed saying it, because blushing was not beyond her even after all she’d been through. To say King was overwhelmed at this point would be far beneath all the things he felt.

“You… You… By the gods, Melia, are you trying to mess with me?”

“I don’t know what to do. I think I’ve hurt you enough the last time we saw each other. And I have nightmares. Not only about my parents. But about what I did to you…”

“It’s…”

He wanted to tell her that it was fine. He genuinely wanted to apologize, because she seemed to forgive him, but the words got stuck in his throat. His nightmares had solely been about her and her rejection and the pain and how she’d hurt. About his guilt.

“I need to be honest with you, because you had the nerve to be honest with me. I can’t say I won’t hurt you like that again, because I can’t forgive what happened. But I know it wasn’t your fault. And I missed you too, despite the fact I didn’t know what to think, even if I did all I could to forget you and…”

“Stop, just stop.”

And his voice sounded just as weak as it’d been and she gasped at the memory, her fear showing in her face. He held her to him, holding back everything he could.

“You’re so tensed, Brad.”

“You’re so thinner than you used to be.” He replied, his voice filled with worry and care.

“Well, you could say that I have this on my side. I don’t stress eat.”

His chuckle was weak and she shed a few tears on his shirt. But she held him back.

“I want you with me, always. Always.” He whispered in her ears.

“I think I want it too. But there’s a condition.”

He braced himself for the blow.

“We need to give ourselves time to recover from this. And when I’m back to being the girl I was, lying in the grass with you, when you’re back to feeling entirely relaxed next to me, then we rush thing and get married and go on with a merry merry life.”

“Merry merry?” he repeated.

It was like having her back already.

“What? Sounds too cheesy for you?”

“No, no, I… I love you, Amelia. I want you to be happy.”

“I want us to be happy. But I think we should talk about your fame and get eating before the food gets cold!”

To be continued…


	22. Senseless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King is given his first investigation.

I chose you – Chapter 22 – Senseless

Walking out of the restaurant after making up was no small feat. Somehow, the words had gotten around that colonel King Bradley had taken his fiancée out. It was the first time they were seen together in public since the story of the improbable rescue had been out. While King was surprised by the group of five journalists ready to assault them with questions, Amelia looked simply annoyed before to splatter a smile on her face. They dismissed the questions as politely as they could, answering the harmless ones while they waited for a cab to arrive. Bradley managed to wrap one arm around her shoulders and she didn’t flinch, but he felt her tense in his arms and somehow, he knew it wasn’t because of the people around them. When the young woman was sitting in the car, King hesitated a second, before to warn the news people.

“Amelia is still in mourning of her parents and many friends from her hometown. This much attention might overwhelm her, so if you could give her some space for the time being, I’d really appreciate it.”

Concern and care were clear in his voice, and the journalists acquiesced to his simple demand. One last time, the dreadful question was asked.

“Is there still going to be a wedding?”

“When she’s healed enough.” He retorted before to dive into the cab.

Next time, he would be renting his own car from the army. He wasn’t forcing Amelia to live through this when he was a simple soldier.

She sighed as they were drove off into the night. Her face looked pale and he realized what exactly he was asking from her.

“You okay?”

“Sure. It’s not the first time and I know they mean well.”

“Won’t you…”

He motioned to grab her hand and she pulled her arm back, needing some space to process everything that had been talked about tonight, everything that was still in store for them.

“If you want, I can pull some strings so that you’re left alone. You don’t have to receive that much attention from those kind of people. Not now.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need you to always look out for me.”

That sounded harsh and he gritted his teeth, seeing how the trust between them was still broken.

“Am I… repulsive to you? Because I killed those guys and…” he was whispering, making sure she was the only one hearing him.

She shook her head.

“I don’t like feeling crowded. I need space around me right now. That’s why I said I needed time. It’s still so fresh in my mind. I have nightmares too.”

His face crumbled, seeing how tired she looked.

“Do you sleep well sometime? It’s been four months or so…”

“Stop fretting over it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. Or how to take the nightmares away.”

He sounded so sorry that it broke her heart.

“Come back tomorrow or the day after that, okay? You must have some time off here and there?”

“I… I guess I can manage something. If I call tomorrow, will your aunt let me talk to you?”

She smiled at that.

“I’ll make sure to answer every call myself. Are you really busy enough that you don’t have a single day off?”

“Well, after the war comes the paperwork. I don’t like it, but it’s necessary.”

Her face brightened as she saw the annoyance on his face.

“Something tells me you’re planning on revoking those things in the future.”

They shared a laugh, before that he walked her up to her door. It was awkward to exchange good byes and a simple kiss on the cheek, but Bradley saw how uneasy she was about being touched by him. She had welcomed his hugs back in the restaurant, but her spine had been tensed all the while and she hadn’t overstay any of his embraces. She said she needed space and he still knew what the soldier who’d attacked her had tried to do. It was part of his nightmares.

“Be safe.” He whispered to her.

“Take care.” She whispered back.

…

On the next day, he settled into his quarters and the damn paperwork. His first lieutenant was following him around like a dog, thinking he needed protection because he was getting famous. There was a fight between two recruits that King broke off himself. More training for the recruits. More paperwork. Schedules for meeting, orders to straighten the living and working quarters because everyone had been gone for around six months. Rumors had it the Fuhrer was dissatisfied with the Drachma border. King asked for a day off in the middle of all of it. In light of his exemplary service, he was offered two weeks off.

One call later and he was ready to meet with Amelia for the entire following day. So he busied himself getting most of the paperwork done, because he wanted the worst to be over. When a knock on his office’s door sounded, he dismissed the visitor. Who insisted by knocking again.

“It’s open,” he groaned, neck deep in files and maps.

“I see you’re keeping yourself busy.” A female voice observed, almost instantly followed by the babbling of an infant.

King raised his human eye and was surprised to see Juliett Mustang standing in his office. She was holding her 9 month old Roy in her arms, a small round bundle of joy with small eyes darker than his hair.

“Jul? What are you doing here?!”

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Just popping by to visit a friend. I heard the news on the radio and paper about what happened back in the country. I’ve been meaning to show up sooner, but you arrived yesterday from Aerugo’s front, so I thought I’d gave you time to settle.”

She looked healthy and just as lively as she’d been. So did the baby in her arms. Bradley got up from his desk, paperwork gladly forgotten.

“Don’t stay up, take a seat.”

She smiled at that, looking proud at how normal he sounded. He would have been far more awkward a few years ago about receiving the unannounced visit of a friend. The baby in her arms kicked around, clearly wanting to be put down.

“You got yourself one healthy son.” He observed.

“Do you want to hold him for a bit? I don’t think I should let him crawl around. You must have weapons hidden everywhere in here.”

He grinned sheepishly at that.

“You might be right, but I don’t…”

She put the baby in his hands without further ado and took her seat while the young man stared at the thing he was holding with a mix of horror and worry.

“He’s not toxic, King. I just wanted you to meet him.”

“But…”

He’d seen babies before, but holding one was a whole different thing. The baby looked tensed, squinting his eyes at the stranger, strands of black hair falling on his forehead. This thing was the weakest kind of human in the world. It couldn’t even walk on its own. It felt warm and soft. And somehow… adorable. Wrath decided to shove it back into his mother’s arms before that the weird mojo the baby was working on him ended up turning him into someone like Grumman with no critical sense.

“Something’s wrong, King?” she asked him, refusing to hold the boy.

He sighed.

“It’s the first time I’m holding a baby. I don’t know how to do it.”

“Well, he’s not crying, so that’s a good sign. And you’re careful enough. You mustn’t be that nervous, since he’s not scared. He don’t react so well to strangers usually.”

The idea that Roy wasn’t scared from him was somewhat reassuring, especially since Amelia was so reluctant to let him get close to her.

He finally accepted to sit with her and talk for a few minutes, only after she had taken her son back. The kid cooed and looked curiously around, looking safe and happy with his mother holding him. He let out a few whimpers when Bradley laughed too loudly to his taste, but other than that, Roy whined quite less than what King would have expected from a child his age.

“I’ve heard about Eli’s daughter. I tried to check on him, but he’s been transferred to East City…”

“Yeah, right after the war, he went straight for the East. I tried to keep him around, but most of his family is there and he said he wanted to establish himself somewhere with less trouble than Central. There’s been some kind of dark case going on unresolved for a few weeks. He said he would find himself investigating on it if he didn’t leave as soon as he could.”

Juliett looked taken aback before to lose the colors in her face.

“Did you hear about it? I heard it was a serial killer or something. They’re keeping it really low but Lloyd works for Daily Central and got a hold of some information. He almost lost his job for learning it.”

Bradley hadn’t meant to get them on a dark subject. He’d heard a good number of murders had left Central’s police clueless lately. But since it wasn’t linked with Father, why should he worry about it? Humans killed themselves, encouraged to or not. It was older than Envy and that freak was almost four centuries old.

“Don’t worry, Jul. If it gets in the army’s hands, it will get sorted out in no time.”

“It’s just that… I miss knowing what’s really going on, you know? Being a civilian means I lost my right to the truth of what happens in my own country.”

He darkened slightly and gazed at the innocent baby, sitting in his mother’s lap. That could have been him. Or any of the poor brain rotten soul waiting beneath Central.

“Sometimes, Juliett, you’re better off not knowing. Believe me.”

His phone rang before that she could tell him otherwise. It was the Fuhrer’s direct secretary, asking him on an appointment. Right now.

“You look as if you’ve been sentenced to dead or something.” She observed.

“What? Oh… I’m just… convoked to meet with the Fuhrer. Now.”

What was the meaning of this?

“Dear god, I hope he just want to congratulate you for what you did in Amelia’s village.”

Bradley straightened his clothes, removing wrinkles here and there in the fabric before to shake his head.

“I hope you get home safe and sound. I’ll try to let you know if I learn anything on that case. It was good seeing you.”

“And it was good seeing you too. I think Roy likes you.”

“Even if I laugh too loud?”

“Especially because you do. Hurry now, Brad. I’ll show myself out.”

He exchanged a brief hug with her, evading the dribbling boy trying to touch the shiny buttons on his military uniform. He hadn’t realize how much he’d missed her. And he had a feeling she should be careful. He dismissed it and left to meet the man he would one day replace.

…

“Colonel King Bradley. You’ve been the main instructor to most our latest recruits, which have proven invaluable. You convinced half the rebels from the civil war to enroll in the army. You’ve been fighting in every skirmishes, every report about you deemed you as the greatest fighter we have around here. And you have sound judgement, since you’ve been in control of your own squad of soldiers.”

King stood in the salute pose, waiting for the praises to be done with. He had no idea what the man wanted.

“You’re one of the youngest soldier to ever make it to colonel. Central needs your help. Lately, criminals have grown rampant in the city. My other officers weren’t able to shed light on the situation.”

_Goodbye my two weeks off._

“I hope I can do something about it. Which situation are we talking about exactly?”

The Fuhrer sighed, before getting up from his chair. There were dark circles beneath his eyes. Grey hair on his temples and he still wore black, even if his daughter had been dead for years. He was a lone, lone man, clearly exhausted from it all. Far too confident in his generals to be standing in that place.

“You might not have heard from it since you just came back from the front. There’s been a series of murders. About… five of them. All women, killed in a gruesome fashion.”

Two generals were sitting at the long table in the council room. They were older than King, as old as the Fuhrer. It was part of reaching those posts. The one with a pointy beard replaced his rectangular glasses on his broken nose and declared:

“It’s a maniac doing this. Raping girls to death and eluding our laws. We need to stop this before the population get wind of this.”

King frowned. Such crimes tended to happen in big cities. It was not new. But there was something more, that much was clear.

“And you want to put me on the case?”

“You solve fights and calm down mobs, son. You’re the young pup everybody is looking up to. I want you among my generals. I want you close to me. But first, you need to show me you got the wits it takes to trump a guy like that. You can take down enemy’s forces head on. I heard you topple buildings with a sword as if they were made of paper. But can you save our city from the madness its undergoing? I need to keep the streets safe. The citizens must feel safe. And right now, no one seems to be, not even in their own house.”

It sounded as if they were testing him. The petty humans wanted to test him after that Father and his brothers and sister tried to test him. Was it all life was about? Undergoing test after test?

“Put me on that case. You won’t be disappointed.” King retorted, with the insolence only youth could exude.

Investigation was part of the army’s job. They usually didn’t interfere with the police, because soldiers were too quick to pull the trigger. If it was in Bradley’s power, he would instate martial law at all time, giving the right to soldiers to carry guns with them at all time. A world where you regrouped humans together with laws was a place welcoming all the sins following humans.

An hour later, King was neck deep in files and maps of a totally different kind from earlier. He went through the reports, dreadful pictures of victims and crime scenes. The murders had taken place in households. If a husband was around, he was killed right after his wife. If kids were involved, they were left alive and traumatized. 5 women had been killed. All the ages differed, the looks, nationality, height and weight. King knew the oldest trick in the game. There was a link other than rape and murder in there. The first victim was the daughter of an old general. The second was the wife of a sergeant. The third one belonged to the army by her own right. Fourth was the mother of a soldier. The last one had been dating one of his own men. He knew it because the fellow had been looking up to meet her as they came back home. He never stopped talking about her, showing them her smiling picture. And now…

This was a vendetta against the army. And whoever the next target was, it would be almost impossible to protect her. With a military state as Amestris was, any family not involved with soldiers in any way was rare. No scientists had been charged to analyze DNA. It was alchemist’s ideas that were still too new for this time. But King knew he couldn’t let this go on too long. Because with his new fame and notoriety, Amelia could be next. And he couldn’t live with himself if anything like that happened. That reminded him he was supposed to call her.

“Hello?”

“Is Amelia home?”

“It’s me, King, what’s wrong?”

“I…”

She was working in a hotel, how could he ask her to stay safe when they welcomed strangers all day and night long? He felt so must anguish suddenly that the words that came out next where rushed, as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“I need to see you.”

“Brad, you’re being dramatic and I don’t think it’s funny.”

“You don’t know what’s going on.”

“And you won’t tell me on the phone, or you would have already, so what’s the point in making me worry? You always do that!”

He looked up to the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, Amelia, I…”

“Look, King, I want to see you too, but I don’t like how desperate you sound. I want us to meet normally, as if there was no conspiracy in this world.”

He didn’t answer right away, holding down his breath, because she had said something like that on the line and that someone, Lust, Envy, even Father maybe, might be tapping his phone to make sure he minded only the business they wanted him to mind.

“So I’m going to hang up, and you’re going to call me again, this time to talk about normal stuff, like how you can’t come to meet with me tomorrow and how you shouldn’t talk for hours with me on the military line and I’ll laugh and I’ll ask for you to show up sooner and it will be normal.”

“Amelia, you sound so defeated.”

“I’m not. You just do as I say. Hanging up now!”

The dead tonality made him smile despite his fears. It was like another one of her games. He accepted her challenge and called her again.

“Hello, Corsaire’s hotel, how may I help you?”

“Is this miss Corsaire?” he asked, doing his best to sound playful. “Miss Amelia Corsaire?”

“The one and only. What can I do for you?” she asked, almost cheerful.

“Melia, I wanted to apologize because I can’t take time off tomorrow.”

“But I need to see you, Brad. Why are you making this to us?”

“Now you’re the one being dramatic.”

“It’s part of the game, just go along with it.” She replied matter-of-factly.

“Okay… Well, I…”                                          

“Say something already!”

“Stop being pushy, Melia. I almost had a two weeks’ vacation and they just _changed_ their mind.”

“Poor thing.”

“So I don’t have time tomorrow and since it’s already obviously too late for dinner tonight…”

“I don’t want dinner. I want a whole afternoon with you.”

“Listen to me, darling, I was getting there.”

She laughed in the phone and that sounded real, even genuine. That made him feel bolder than usual and he went on with the inspiration of the moment, pushing papers around to check his work schedule with the investigation.

“My weekend’s all clear for once and I thought I could swing by Friday night, kidnap you before that your aunt has me arrested and we take the train to a small town where they won’t know who we are.”

“Oh my god, King, that sounds so lovely! But I don’t know if I can…”

“You said you wanted to see me! Was that a lie?”

She almost gasped in the phone and quickly told him that it was no lie and that she would make it possible.

“So Friday night, 6 pm, you’re ready for departure. You don’t have to bring anything with you.”

“What?!” now she sounded slightly worried. “Do you have something… improper in mind when I clearly told you that we shouldn’t rush things?”

“I want to shower you with gifts for all the Christmas and birthdays I missed. Is there something wrong with that?”

“No, but…”

“You’ve been good to me since the very start.” He reminded her.

“I remember slapping you at the very start!”

He laughed whole-heartedly before to tell her:

“And that was a good thing, you hear me?”

“Are you a masochist or something? My aunt will call the police if she hear this and I bet she’s on another line, listening closely.”

“Let her call them. I don’t see anything wrong with what we’re saying. I need fresh air, you need a change of scenery and we need to have time together. I don’t mind if it’s cuddling, holding hands or just looking at clouds like kids.”

That wasn’t meant to come out loud but she sighed in contentment, clearly touched by how much he cared and how sincere he sounded.

“You’re the sweetest.”

“Don’t say that. The receptionist might jump me when I go back to my quarters after hearing all that.”

“What?!”

“Just kidding. But we’re agreed then?”

“Yes, we’re agreed. But this… It’s big.”

“We should have done something like this a long time ago.”

She waited on the other line, unsure or maybe preoccupied. He was taking some risk, to take her out with him suddenly, when they usually met in parks, at her family’s hotel or on Central’s streets. But if felt right.

“Which town?”

“It’ll be a surprise,” he decided.

“But…!”

“Look up to it, Amelia. I love you and we’ll have a 48 hours just for the two of us.”

“But I have to be back on Monday!”

“Sure.”

“And we share the costs for…!”

“Oh no, the expenses are mine. It’s my privilege, don’t take it away from me! Love you, take care, we’ll see each other on Friday!”

He hung up with that, feeling exhilarated like a school boy starting his summer vacation. Then it dawned on him that she was still in danger for the two next days and that he had to book train tickets, one hotel room, with two beds so that she wouldn’t feel pressured and to convince the higher-ups he owed at least two days off.

He stared down at the files in front of him. No way could he crack that case in less than 48 hours.

“Damn humans.” He growled.

…

An hour later, he was in his barracks, helping his men in comforting their comrade’s loss of his girlfriend. He tried to get information from him, while being really considerate and calm. They went out for drinks and King roamed the streets and bars, asking around for whatever the people could know about the killings. There wasn’t much. He went for a few hours of sleep and resumed investigating by talking with the first officers put on the case. They proved to be of no help. As he was walking along the streets, feeling helpless, someone bumped into him. It was a tall person, all bones and cheekbones.

“Bradley?”

Much to his surprise, he knew the man who was wearing bandages on the left side of his head.

“Kimblee? What’s up with you?”

“What about you? You look… hell, King, you’re a colonel now, just like me.”

He could tell from the uniform Wrath was wearing.

“Well, where have you been? We tried to check up on you during the war.”

“Oh, that’s why I didn’t heard about your promotion…”

Kimblee dragged him in an alley to remove a portion of his bandages and show him the damage.

“A grenade went boom right next to my head. I’m lucky just to be alive. But look, look how it looks now!”

His left ear was entirely gone and a portion of his skull was deformed. Not to mention it was possible to see a part of his teeth through burned skin.

“So you’re… retired.”

It was the gentlest way Wrath found to put it.

“My wife didn’t like it, but Zolf doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Zolf?”

“My son. About two years old the little bastard. He likes everything that blow up. So my head almost count now.”

King had seen freaky things before but his former top officer was among them. He did all he could not to simply run away from him. Though that meeting gave him an idea of what the killer could be after. Someone crippled by the war and forced to live around the city, treated like some ugly monster when he should have been a war hero. Someone jealous of the other soldiers who came back unscathed and decided to deprive them from whatever made their life happy by torturing and killing their wives, girlfriends or mothers. It was a mere hypothesis. But it was better than nothing at all. He rushed back to HQ so that he could go through anything related to prolonged leave of absence in the recent or less recent soldiers’ file. It was classified information, but his rank gave him access to information. Being polite with the secretary helped. A smile or two would always get you far with simple human. It was easy to maneuver them. And King wondered if he was too easily maneuvered himself. Amelia had him wrapped around her little finger. But the fact he liked it wasn’t wrong, or was it? He didn’t mind, because she was caring and gentle and understanding when no one else could have been.

…

King was woken up by his first lieutenant on Friday morning. He had fallen asleep in the middle of the files, reading and scribbling notes till late in the night.

“Sir, maybe you should… sleep in your quarters.” The young man suggested.

“Easy, Butcher. I guess… You’re right. This damn thing is going to drive me crazy.”

“Can I help in anyway, colonel?”

“Take these and make sure who still lives in Central among the people on this list.”

There was about three hundred names scribbled in his hastiest handwriting on the list and Butcher looked overwhelmed by the amount of time this was going to take just to decipher them.

“Split the work with Baron and Irina. I have to make some calls and finish my damn paperwork.”

“It will be done before the end of the day sir!”

“Don’t make promise you can’t keep, Butch. It will be fine if it’s not ready before Monday. I have the weekend off.”

He said it mostly to encourage himself, but his first lieutenant stare at his back, a little jealous to know that King would be off while he would still be going through the registries with the second lieutenant and sergeant Irina.

“By the way, if you don’t ask Irina out before that Baron tries, I bet you they’ll be married by the end of the year. Hurry yourself up, Butcher.”

“Wha… What?! Colonel!”

King had taken a liking to patroniinge his soldiers. They liked it, even though they hid it well. And the talk among the army for it were sounding really good. Every new recruit hoped to be on his famous squad eventually. Life would be perfect if he could catch the mad man running around Central killing girls related to the army. Because then it would mean he could dream about Amelia instead of having nightmares.

To be continued.


	23. On lovebirds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King treats his girlfriend to some real good time. They both need a real break.

I chose you – Chapter 23 – On lovebirds

Friday night was upon them. Instead of a girlfriend, King had the impression he was collecting a bundle of nerves from her aunt’s hotel. Amelia looked like a nervous wreck.

“Hey, we’re just off to take the train, it’s not anything ominous or…”

“I know. I just had no idea you were serious about this weekend. I don’t know what to expect. You sounded so normal on the phone, as if we’d never been through what we’d been four months ago.”

“You wanted me to sound normal! And do you have any idea how pejorative that sound? I feel like a freaking circus anomaly now that I think about it, because it means that I never sound normal!”

That made her laugh, as it was supposed to and as they walked out on the street, she grabbed his hand, a real smile on her face. They were both wearing civilian’s clothes and King had a single knife in his left booth, and a gun in a holster beneath his shirt, but that was just for good measure. His men had made fun of him, taking the weekend off to get his fiancée out of Central. It was in good humor and a little subdued, not to hurt the feeling of the one guy whose girlfriend had been outrageously killed by the maniac Bradley was supposed to stop.

 _I’m not thinking about this_ , he thought. _I’m thinking good thoughts._

“So where are we going?”

“Some town, with a lake and lots of rivers.”

“So I should have brought skates?”

“You want me to die from embarrassment? I’ve never skated in my life.”

“But it’s the perfect time of the year for that! And you might be good at it!”

“Okay, you win. As always.”

She wanted to protest, but they had reached the station and they hurried to get on the train. Dinner would be served an hour after they left and they would arrive just before midnight. Amelia sat next to the window, King right next to her. He asked her what she wanted to do for the next two days, promising her they would have a longer vacation as soon as possible. She asked him about the army and what had been going on lately.

He judged she didn’t need to hear about the killings or Anna-Elisabeth. But he told her about the members of his squad and as always, she liked to try and picture them with the little details he used to describe each and every of them. King had a way to notice peculiar things about people. How Butcher fidgeted with his fingers behind his back when he was standing ready to receive orders. The way Irina had to move her neck, making her hair flow around her head like a field of crops in the wind. Baron’s eyes when he would start crying over a happy or sad story, that guy being the heart of their team.

“Which was the one who try to help you when your arm broke?”

“You mean the one who got in my way…”

“We both know your arm would have been broken later in your sleep if you had won that fight.” She objected.

He winced but agreed with her.

“It was Baron. I kept him alive for better or for worse. I still don’t know if it was the right thing to do. But he’s loyal as a dog, that guy.”

“Are you seriously telling me you were thinking about letting him die at some point during the war?”

That froze him in place and they exchanged a long look, Amelia clearly weirded out to know that King was sincere.

“I mean, is he that bad?”

“No, it’s just…”

He had the feeling he was only going to make it sound worse if he tried to explain anything more and remained silent, looking pensive.

“King… I know how things are. You have orders from more than one person. Sometimes, you have to make hard choices. Like deciding who you sacrifice.”

“I try to prevent this kind of situation from happening and I’ve managed to so far.”

“Great.”

The happiness he’d felt upon getting on the train subsided as he realized this was taking a turn for the worse.

“Amelia, I don’t want you to be angry with me.”

“I’m not angry. _I_ don’t prioritise one of my emotion over the others.”

“Oh please. I don’t do that.”

Her eyes were like daggers and he twitched his lips, angrily realizing that she was right. Again.

“Maybe I do. But I need your help to make this work. Tell me what’s wrong. Is it what I said? The fact I’m a soldier? The eyepatch? The weather?”

“You think me so petty I would mind any of those things and blame you for it?”

He had merely tried to make her smile.

“We’re together now, Amelia. So talk to me.”

She huffed and massaged her temples. She was honest, but there was a brutality to questions she asked when she couldn’t keep them down any longer, that never seized to shock him.

“Am I going to be targeted again?”

“What?”

“Will they still try to get to you through me?”

Who she meant when she said _they_ was clear and it hurt him to realize she might have been just as worried about it as he’d been.

“I don’t think the … others will. Our boss was angry with them and decided you were good publicity for me.”

“So now I’m publicity for you!” she asked, clearly outraged.

He face palmed himself, which finally made her laugh.

“Oh King, you still look so worried. So you’re still going to aim for the very top? That’s why you hesitated before to answer me. With the fame and all, you’re worried normal humans could also come after me.”

Their train’s compartment was pretty empty, which was a benediction because the people sitting around them were giving them weird looks. What was that talk about _normal humans_?

“The journalists already do.” Bradley observed.

She nodded, but her eyes were hard from determination. Whatever she was thinking, her mind was made up about it.

“I think I know what we should do. I want you to train me so that I can defend myself.”

“Are you serious?!”

“You train all those recruits all the time. I know I’m no soldier and I’m not saying I want to join. But I can’t help but think that with more training in self-defence, I could have fared better back in my town.”

He felt hurt, because that meant that he wasn’t good enough to protect her. But it had been proven once already. And with the madman running around Central looking for women related to the army to prey upon… How could he refuse?

“What kind of training?”

She seemed to soften as she realize he was agreeing to do it.

“Physical combat. Helping me getting a bit stronger. Or just telling me what to do against human people. You take care of the monsters,” she whispered. “And I’ll be able to look after myself against most of the rest.”

“You know, if I wasn’t investigating on a gruesome criminal case, I would be totally against this. And I don’t know if I have enough time to train you properly.”

“You can give me pointers and I’ll practice on my own. Test me every now and then.”

He hesitated, looking into her deep green eyes, staring at her form. She looked so small. He knew that height and weight had nothing to do with strength. But he had observed how thin she’d gotten in a few months. He knew she was mourning and all.

“If you get all muscular, I’m going to be so sad.” He whispered to her, a playful pout on his face while she blushed furiously.

But she laughed and it was understood that he would help her. He wouldn’t let her be defenseless against the rest of the world, not when she asked for his help.

…

The town was lovely, covered in a coat of snow over the street lights. After a quick ride in a carriage pulled by horses, they checked in at their hotel and went right to their room. Amelia thanked him for taking a room with two beds, so that she could decide whether or not she wanted to sleep with him. It was considerate. He kind of hoped it was unnecessary, because he missed having her around. They had fallen asleep together many times while he stole chances in her room back in Central. Just lying next to each other would have been awesome. He wanted to have a real chance of holding her and kissing her again. He let her get changed in the bathroom, putting on his own pajama and sat on the bed he’d chosen, the one farthest from the window. Feeling exposed was not something he liked.

“Are you tired?” she asked as she got out of the bathroom, wearing a white nightgown, her hair tied in a loose braid hanging on her left shoulder.

“A bit. I’ve been working a lot. And so have you.”

She nodded and walked up to him, reaching her hands out. He grabbed her hands in his and gently pulled her to him so that she would sit down with him on his bed. There was no hesitation, no fear, a mere moment of propriety when she remember to make sure that her gown was covering her legs entirely. They stood silently, just gazing at each other, still holding hands. She seemed shy under his look, holding his gaze and looking down, then to the side.

“Tell me I’m not scaring you, Melia…”

“No, Brad, never. I’m… self-conscious. I know what normally happens when a guy takes his girlfriend out to a hotel. I work at one, remember?”

He blushed at her accusation.

“I thought we were waiting to fix ourselves up. There’s no rush.”

“Always the gentleman.”

“I try.”

She smiled, looking down at their joined hands. She seemed happy, even if she was tensed and self-conscious and nervous. Her feet were naked. They looked cold and he wondered if she would feel better under a bundle of covers.

“If you want me to do something or not to do anything, you tell me.”

“I say we just sleep. What do you think?”

He smiled, understanding she just needed to be comforted. There was something foreign about being together like this. They had shared moments so dark. He had seen her so far from herself and she had seen him so much acting as his real self. The one who killed people, mercilessly.

“You’ll stay with me? You’ll get cold otherwise.” He offered.

“Oh, that’s a good reason. It even sounds proper.”

He gently kissed her forehead and they went to bed, desperately trying to forget the stress they felt and to let the tiredness take them over. It didn’t work until they settled themselves in the bed. She was lying with her back to him. She laid a mere feet away from him, rigid like steel. He stroked her shoulder through her gown, which made her shiver and Wrath feared it was over.

“Good shivers?” he asked wearily.

“You have no idea, Brad. You can hold me through the night. Like you used to.”

He happily obliged her, snaking one arm under her pillow and draping the other over her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around the arm holding her, her back against his chest, his nose in her hair. His breathing in her neck gave her more shivers and they snuggled together, until they were both relaxed.

“I missed you.” She sighed.

“And I you.”

They fell asleep with their heart at peace for the first time in weeks. Sadly, the nightmare wouldn’t let go. Filled with blood, pain and dead, so much dead and corpses that King felt like running away from sleep. He jerked himself awake, his breathing fast, his heart beating madly. She had turned in her sleep and her green eyes were looking at him, open wide. She had removed his eye patch at some point in the night and he blinked both his eyes, feeling a dark clutch closing on his throat. She saw the fear in his face, the way he turned so that his tattooed eye would be hidden by the pillow.

“It’s okay, Brad, I swear, it’s okay. I made a nightmare and you had one too. It’s fine.”

She gently stroked his hair, caressed his face. He groggily did the same. As his fingers brushed against her neck, she trembled and it felt wrong, so wrong. He removed his hand, as if she had slapped him.

“Something’s off.”

“I dreamed you were snapping my neck.” She admitted in a small voice.

“I was what?!”

She buried her face in his chest, curling up on herself, and on him too, her shoulders trembling slightly. He had no idea what to tell her. Or how to hold her.

“Does… does it happen often. That particular dream?”

His voice was white, almost shivering out from his throat. She shook her head against his chest, her hair tickling him.

“You know I’d never… I love you, Amelia. Even if I was angry with you. Even if they ordered me to…”

“I know. It’s just… a senseless dream, something crazy. I just wished… I hadn’t seen you kill those guys. I know you were protecting us. Protecting me. You got so hurt just for me, when you shouldn’t even have been there.”

“Look at me. Give me back my eyepatch and look at me.”

“No. No, let me collect my thoughts. Just hold me.”

He waited, lying on his back, Amelia wrapped to his side, holding her closer still. He tentatively stroked her hair, following her locks on her shoulders, tracing patterns in her back, until the shaking slowed and finally stopped.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“Don’t be. I dreamed you were dying. Must have influenced your dream somehow.”

“Oh King. I’m so tired of being like this.”

“Like what?”

“Always afraid. Looking over my shoulders. Fearing the shadows. Sometimes, when you sleep, you say stuff. About your past, about dark think lurking in black tunnels. Eyes and teeth. Eyes and teeth…”

Damn Pride and damn all the other homunculi to hell!

“I talk in my sleep?!”

“Just when you’re having nightmares. And not for all of them.”

“Don’t worry, okay? I won’t ever hurt you, well not physically at least. And as long as you’re with me, nothing will attack you.”

She stroked her cheek to his shoulder, doing her best to believe him. After a few more minutes of silence, she raised herself over him.

“I believe you, King. And I trust you. And if something crazy in my unconscious disagrees, we’ll just have to prove it wrong.”

They shared a fragile smile, hoping fixing was still possible, because this whole situation was hard on both of them. Being this close, feeling this far apart, knowing the other hurt. Wanting comfort and to comfort but not knowing what to do or to say. When she leaned down to him, he looked unsure. As if he suddenly had no idea what he should do in such a situation, when he’d wanted nothing more a few months ago.

“You can touch me, King. I think it helps.”

Her lips caught his, softly, like a feathery touch. His arms wrapped around her and suddenly pain was far from their mind, replaced by the familiar intimacy they’d shared. She kissed him for real, her hair falling around his face, her hands cupping his jaw. When she pulled back, he raised himself on his elbows to make sure he could still taste her mouth with his. His hands pressed down on her back, pulling her closer. After a few more heated kisses, he tried to roll her on her back but she sat on his stomach, her knees on each side of his waist, pushing on his shoulders to make him understand he had to stay like this for now.

As long as she kissed him, he didn’t mind. He gathered her hair in one hand to have more space and felt her hands on him, moving up and down his arms, his chest. He almost felt drunk just from kissing her. She kicked back the covers, feeling too warm and he caressed her legs, from the knees to the tights, all bare for him. Suddenly, she stopped, flushed and breathing hard.

“This… this is rushing things, Brad.”

“And I like it.”

This time, she let him pin her on her back, holding her hands on each side of her head. She let him kiss her hard and sweet and fast and slow all in turns. When he went down to kiss her neck, she gasped, her body reacting to his in ways that didn’t feel proper at all. But could this be enough? How long should they tease each other before to finally go over the edge? She grabbed his head, unravelling his locks, massaging his scalp. Gentle, welcoming. He pulled the gown over her waistline, discovering white skin, her gorgeous white and warm skin. Hip bones were showing. His breath caught at the sight, and still, she was appealing and the curves of her tights were calling for his hands to caress and…

“King.” She called him. “King, please.”

Was she pleading for him to go on or…?

“Don’t say my name like that.”

He wanted to resist, but his desire was strong. He was scared that if he waited, something else would happen to her. He wanted her to be his. Wanted them to be together, really together. In that carnal, instinctive way his body begged him to take.

“Brad.”

Suddenly there were tears in her eyes and it broke his heart and all the desire he could have had. He felt inconsiderate and awful.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not… It’s just. Last time we…”

She wouldn’t be able to finish that sentence and he knew what she meant. He saw it in her eyes. The afternoon beneath the trees. The blood of her parents on the floor. The soldier straddling her. He pulled her gown back down and sat up, giving her space, because he needed some himself not to go crazy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t prevent you from going in there alone.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It’s just… I wished that man hadn’t touched me before that you did.”

He gritted his teeth, rage seething in his eyes.

“I thought nothing had…”

“He had torn my clothes. That’s… pretty violent, don’t you think?”

He’d seen such terrible things lately, what with the investigation he was on and the war zones he had walked in. Picturing her in the place of any victims of the maniac in Central made him shiver.

“Awfully violent.” He didn’t want her to feel guilty for still being traumatized. “But you’re safe. He can never hurt you again.”

“I know. It’s just… I don’t know. I feel dirty.”

“You’re not.”

He kissed her on the cheek, on the chin, everywhere on her face, until the tears seemed gone.

“Besides, if you’re dirty, I’m covered in mud. I’ve been examined by the scientists so many times I don’t even know how I still feel shy around you.”

She softened at that, decided not to linger on the terribly creepy part of what he’d told her and gently touched his face, his lips.

“It’s because you love me. You feel self-conscious too. You worry about what I could think. Which is stupid, because I love you no matter what. But we all do it. It’s part of what makes us human.”

Their next kiss felt sloppy but also sweet. He sighed deeply afterwards, gathering her close.

“You’re still becoming my wife, huh?”

She stroked his upper arms, which were around her waist now.

“Definitely. And I’m still getting showered in love for the rest of my days.”

“As long as you stop initiating things like this to interrupt me. One day I’m gonna reach my limit.”

“I wonder which one of us will reach it first. I might not look as uncomfortable as you, but this isn’t easy for me either.”

More kisses ensued, but they tried not to get too physical. There was a limit to the torture they would put themselves trough.

…

“You’re doing good, Brad!”

If falling on his ass was a sport, he bet he would have owned a title like King. Such irony.

“I never lose my footing usually.”

“You just need to relax.” She repeated to him for the nth time.

Amelia had insisted after breakfast that they should go skating. King was thankful that there weren’t many people around, even if he had learned that being the target of mockery from pure strangers was the least of his concerns. His ego was big enough to fix his hurt pride. But still…

Wearing shoes or being bare foot, he could use falling debris as footing, but right now, he had trouble finding his balance. Maybe was it because Amelia was looking at him and he was still a little shaken by what had almost happened last night. Those things mattered to him. He had the impression he couldn’t let her feel just how much he loved her until…

 _Focus, you fool!_ He told himself.

After losing his last parasite souls, he had taken the habit of talking to himself in his mind.

As he got back up on his feet, he tried to focus on the problem at hand. Balancing himself on a thin knife fixed to his boots. Why was it so tricky? He breathed in, out. Focused all his training on his posture, on studying the other skaters. Movement had always been easy for him. He always knew where each part of his body was. Knew how to flex muscles that people had no idea existed. He tried to skate forward, cautious of the way his feet were pointing in the direction he wanted to take. One foot, two feet forward. Amelia joined him, grabbing his arm to help him and almost send him to the iced floor. But they didn’t fell. And after getting the hang of turning with those blasted things, he had to admit, it wasn’t a bad feeling to skate.

“See, you learned it in less than an hour. It took me two weeks to get the hang of it.”

They agreed to come back on the next morning to make sure he was turning into a good skater and this wasn’t pure luck. King let Amelia take over the planning of the weekend. He had taken those days off for her. They walked around town, visiting the shops, making friends with the local people. It was easy for her to engage conversation with strangers and he was comfortable with it, always the charming lad, ready to make people laugh. They tried winter treats, like iced maple syrup. Another delicious kind of food coming from another country Bradley added not too far from the watermelon in his list of favorites. Amelia didn’t need clothes for the next day, having brought a small bag of her things despite his recommendation of not taking anything with her. But he insisted on buying her something, so after dinner, they went shopping. There was a store specialized in high-class clothes for both gender, which he almost brought her by force to.

“I don’t want you to spend that much for me!” she pleaded.

“I promised you would accompany me to the next ball happening in Central. Let me spoil you for once.”

After much debate, she accepted to walk in, worried that her simple coat would be a distaste to the vendors and that they would end up being kicked out. King had simple but high quality clothes, his black long coat made of wool and elegantly cut. He had never done anything to make her feel bad about her own attire, a brown woolen coat which had seen more than his fair share of winters. It had belonged to her aunt and to her aunt’s mother before and there was a lot of sewing it back into shape that had been done by all the women of the family. King didn’t give much thought to material possessions, except when it came down to his beloved swords. He thought that Amelia was resourceful and he was the kind to wear the same thing over and over again until it was so worn out he could see right through it. Clothes were useful for protecting them from cold and rain. Which didn’t mean he disliked to see his girl well dressed.

The fact Amelia wasn’t a total coquette made her only more lovable in his eyes. And worthier of one or two nice dresses despite his still small income.

They were greeted with polite smiles. When King asked where the evening dresses were, his companion blushing, the vendors seemed to come alive. A moment later, Amelia’s coat had been thrown aside, her measures taken and she was offered a choice of dresses that had always been beyond her imagination.

“You don’t even know when the next ball will be.” She remarked, studying the different fabrics and colors, doing her best not to look at the price tags.

“Stop worrying and enjoy yourself, my dear.”

That made her blush and smile and lose her composure all at the same time. She recovered by suggesting that he find clothes that would fit with hers.

“If you take me to a ball, I sure hope you’ll be wearing something else than your black uniform.”

King agreed that it would be a good idea to have a normal suit. That black uniform had always felt too small for his strong shoulders. The vendors looked even more alive at the prospect of such a sale. He was measured while Amelia tried on a few dresses. They suggested white, brown, blue and grey suits, but it was a black one that kept his attention, with a long tie and red waistcoat. Putting it on felt easier than when he dressed in his uniform. It was the right size, comfortable to move in and the girls working in the shop assured him that he was positively dashing. He went to check on Amelia, to make sure she would choose something and not simply try on some dress to chicken out on him afterwards.

She was judging the one she wore in front of three mirrors, a blue strapless gown that cling to her curves. Her hair had been styled in a braided bun and King decided that her back and offered neck were the most exquisite things he’d seen today.

She jumped as she saw him approaching, turning around to ask for his opinion. He wondered if she would look better in this dress being a little rounder. Her waist line was thin, too thin for comfort and he just wanted to think she was healthy.

“Do you like it?” she asked, clearly uncomfortable under his cryptic stare.

“Do you?”

Her blush expanded but she smiled, joining her hands in her back and trying her best to look dignified.

“I do.” They said at the same time.

His smirk and the sparkle of joy in his eyes were enough to let her know how much he approved of the dress. The magic was broken when a vendor interfered.

“What about the green one? It goes so well with your eyes.”

Amelia was forced to try two more dresses to let Bradley comment on them. He liked the experience, but he didn’t want her to feel too self-conscious. They left wearing smiles, Amelia owning two new dresses, one for high-class events and one for day to day occasion. She was happy that King had let her see what he looked like in a suit. He was quite dashing. His uniform suited him well too, of course, but…

“It cost a fortune. You are so not doing something like that again.”

“But there’s a hat shop on this side. I thought you’d like to have one for yourself.”

“If you spoil me crazy, I will become insufferable. No, I say we get back to our hotel room, so that I can store those wonderful gifts you already gave me and then we go for a walk in that pretty park we spotted earlier.”

“You’re not tired?”

“No, I’m fine!”

He couldn’t forget the bones he’d seen coming out from her sides when they had been kissing yesterday. Her hips were still round, but her stomach was flat, almost going inward and he knew she hadn’t been like that four months ago. Her arms too were thinner. And he liked his girl healthy with a round…

“What’s with that look? Are you going all dark because I’m not wearing that blue dress anymore?”

He smiled, shaking his head and followed her, trying to push aside his worries. Amelia was a grown woman. She knew what was good for her. She seemed so happy right now, he told himself she would put some weight back on. They went for a two hours walk, and relaxed in a tea shop to warm themselves, sipping exotic tea and eating cupcakes and biscuits. It felt incredible knowing that they would still be together for the next day. They had tasted something like that when he had been staying with her at her parent’s house, but it was different. Around here, nobody judged them or tried to get between them. They could hold hands, share kiss out of the blue, laugh together without getting anything else than jealous or empathic looks. As they exited the tea shop, the shopkeeper congratulate them.

“You two make the cutest couple I’ve ever seen.”

King wasn’t sure if he should feel ashamed to let his feelings show so openly or just be happy because Amelia was clearly overjoyed.

“Say King, did you ever try making a snow angel before?”

“A what?”

She looked up to the sky before to drag him back to the park. It was getting closer to dinner time, and less people were around. The sky was greyer, but it didn’t feel too cold and it was comfortable walking around with her, talking or not, just knowing she was there. She seemed just as peaceful as he felt.

“See, you just have to do it like that.”

She lied on the ground in a spot where nobody had walked and moved both her arms and legs apart and back in place, until the snow had been moved enough around her. She held out her hands for him to pull her back up and he wrapped her in his arms, worried she’d be cold, trying to remove the snow in her hair.

“I’m fine, Brad, look.”

The shape in the snow looked like those things human called angels.

“You did that when you were a little girl too, didn’t you?”

She nodded, seeing the sadness to his smile, the void of all the childhood’s things he had missed during his upbringing.

“Try it too,” she encouraged him.

King thought it was slightly ironic to ask him, half a monster half a man, to draw an angel in the snow with his own body. But he obliged, pushing aside the dark thoughts. Even if caution and wariness told him that he couldn’t see his surroundings, that this was a behaviour that made him vulnerable. He had seen nothing out of the ordinary around this town. No one behaved in a shady manner, the maniac in Central was still in Central, because there were more military’s wives out there. When Amelia offered him her hand to get back up, he pulled her down to him, making her cry out in surprise, but she was soon laughing with him, lying in his arms, both their head covered with snow.

As the laugh died down and they simply stared at each other, there was no shyness on either part, no question, no held-back fear. They felt good together. Right.

“Sun of my days, moon of my nights.” She whispered.

“Is that a poem?”

“Did I said that out loud?”

Suddenly, she blushed, over the redness the cold was giving to her cheeks and she was sweet and cute and she was his.

“You know, Amelia, you made me realize that I didn’t have to go through with their plans. You’ll be my queen, and I’ll be their king, but…”

She looked alarmed, as if for the first time in his cautious live, he was taking a risk and she hastily shut him down with her lips on his mouth. He held her there. Passion and despair mixed in their kiss, coming from both of them. She knew full well what she was getting herself into. He knew where this could get her. But it was worth it. She made everything worth it.

When they parted, she sighed heavily.

“As much as I like lying with you, I can’t feel my toes anymore.”

“Let’s get you warm then,” he retorted immediately.

They left two angels behind them, though one was more awkward than the other. They had one more day together before going back to Central. And they would make the most out of it.

To be continued…


	24. Laws are meant to be broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King face reality after having a few dreams. Cold, harsh, rough reality. The one he was raised in, in fact...

I chose you – Chapter 24 – Laws are meant to be broken…

“What’s your best memory from that time? Before?”

She didn’t have to be more precise. He’d told her that on their first meeting, he was right out from the military lab for the very first time. _Before that time._ Before when he was just number 12.

“I think it was when I was looking at maps. It may sound stupid, but there were always walls, always… I studied the city streets, memorized the names, the patterns. It sounded incredible that places so big existed outside.”

She didn’t comment it instantly and he turned his head down to her, as they lied on their bed, snuggled in warm blankets. Her head was on his shoulder, her hand in his, her other arm slipped under his neck. He held her back and it felt perfect.

“Too dramatic?”

“No, no… Just… You must have been such a sweet boy.”

“I killed people before too, you know.”

Amelia paid it no mind.

“There’s many way to kill someone. Taking one’s life doesn’t always mean to spill blood.”

How could she say that? Why would she…?

“I made you sad.” He said on an apologetic ton.

“No, I’m good. We’re good. I just believe that there are things… Like taking the purpose and confidence in life from someone, crushing hope, irremediably. Makes life worse than dead. Like what they did to my aunt.”

“Don’t think about that.”

“What would you want me to think about?”

“Maps. Possibilities. Snow flakes and candy clouds.”

“Candy clouds?!” she echoed him, unbelief written all over her face.

“In my defense, I might be tired and talking nonsense.”

“Or you might be trying to distract me from dark thoughts. Either way, it works.”

They snuggled closer, exchanging a few more gentle words before that she asked him another serious question.

“When we’ll be married…” she started.

“I’ll call you Mrs. Bradley for a full week.”

“And I’ll love it, for a full day, I swear,” she retorted playfully. “But afterwards. When we’ll be settled together and I cook you dinner and you show up a month and go off the next one for war, leaving me waiting anxiously, like you already do…”

“I don’t like where this is heading.”

“It gets better, just listen to me without interrupting.” She took a deep breath and added: “Do you want us to start a family? You told me once that I could be your family and it will be my pleasure… But I got thinking and we’re old and responsible enough and...”

He had never wondered about this. The very idea scared him shitless.

“Kids? You mean having kids?”

She stroked his hair reassuringly and he held her tighter.

“Yes King. I know it’s a big decision and I know there would be risks, first with your position within the army, and with your… with _them_. But you know how I love children. And I think you’d be a really good father too.”

She had thought this through, already weighting pros and cons. And while he was a great strategist and usually planned their dates like he planned battle preparations, he hadn’t even dream of something like this. That she simply considered it meant something. Confidence far beyond simply wanting to be with him. But still.

“I don’t even know if _they_ would agree with that. I don’t even know if what they put in my blood could hurt you or not. Or if…”

“Please, please, don’t worry about it. It’s a possibility. A mere possibility! I’m not saying I need it to be happy!” she tried to calm him, raising herself up.

He sat up so that they could look at each other without craning their neck around, his chest filling up with contradicting emotions. She talked about them being married as if it was already done. She wanted it. She wanted him. And that made him happy, but the question was still hanging in the air. What would come after that? There were many ways one could show commitment in the human world.

“But… God, Amelia, do you have any idea what you’re talking about? We might not even be compatible.”

“What are you talking about?! You’re still entirely human, we both know it. You’ve fought monsters, King, and this scares you this much?”

“I could hurt you.” He sadly pleaded, hoping she would understand and that they would stop this argument.

“What kind of stuff did Grumman put in your head this time? Babies are natural, King. There would be nothing wrong with me being pregnant with your child.”

“We don’t know if it would be a human child. They never made anything like me before.”

She looked angry at that.

“They did not made you! You existed before. You were born naturally, you’re…”

“I don’t know that! I don’t know anything about that part of my life. Who were my parents, if I had some, where they went, why I was there or… I don’t know, Melia. I’m the only one of my kind. Partly human, but not…”

He motioned to his eye patch and she saw the anger stirring in him, because he hated feeling ashamed of what he was, because he didn’t want to scare her. She saw how he needed to punch in something, how hard it was to hold everything back, as he always did. She grabbed his arms, taking deep breathes not to freak out, not to give fuel to this fire.

“Brad, Brad, please, calm down. I’m sorry for stirring this wound. I had no idea… You’re always so proud about everything you can do. It wasn’t your fault, for your eye. They didn’t change you.”

“How can you say that? You were scared when I killed those guys. You’re still scared sometimes. I don’t even know how you can look me straight in the eyes. I might be able to snap people neck without being Wrath, but… I know this strength isn’t all mine.”

She gently cupped his face in her hands, regret clear on her face.

“Wrath?” she repeated.

He blinked, realizing he had let it slip. He felt so open right now, as if she could saw through the patch, and he was half glad he could talk to her so openly, while he still wished she didn’t know and he could keep it all bottled up inside. He closed his eyes, moving her hands away, because comfort felt too good for him.

“It’s what _they_ call me. But let’s not… I shouldn’t tell you about that.”

“Wrath?” she said again, as if she tried to find a way to pronounce it that would sound good.

“Please don’t. Any name but that one. I don’t wanna be that thing with you.”

“Then you don’t have to. Just like you don’t have to worry about the future. We’ll face whatever happens when it happens. If you’re worried about hurting me, I’m sure your creepy scientists will gladly run all the tests you ask them about. But I’m not worried. You got by with dozens of people around you during each war. Don’t you think that blood can have been mixed sometimes out there?”

He shrugged in ignorance, clearly preoccupied now.

“I know I don’t care about what alchemists could say. You’re the most human person I know, super strong or not.”

“I’m not…”

“If it was you against 30 guys, who’d win?”

There was defiance in her eyes, but she was smiling and he realized she wouldn’t be shocked by the truth.

“I would. Make it a hundred to give them a chance.”

“And you’d still win. And you’d still be human afterwards. My brother killed people and I didn’t think less of him for it. I will never think less of you either, King. And when I said that I wanted to maybe have children with you someday, it’s because I think _you_ would make it worth it. It’s because I don’t see anyone else in the world I would want to share such an experience with.”

“That… that means a lot. I know I’m totally worth it,” he added, forcing his voice to sound stronger on the second sentence. “But I’m… I’m really touched. We’ll think about it, okay? Carefully and…”

“Together.”

They exchanged a kiss, and a dozen more, because all this anxiety was taking a toll on them and that comfort was highly needed. They fell asleep exchanging love words. And King was certain that he couldn’t have made a better choice. He wished he had all his life to spend with her, without wars and fights. But those were part of him too and she didn’t deny it anymore. She accepted him in his entirety, defending his humanity fiercely. He loved her for it. Hoped she would never see him with different eyes. And she hoped he would never get tired of her.

…

The next day was more skating and walks in the snow. The hotel staff suggested they take a few pictures to keep as a souvenir and though King thought it useless, Amelia was excited to have a photograph of him to keep around when she was anxiously waiting for him. They took ten pictures and kept 8 of them, which cost him almost as much as the dresses had. But since she looked happy, he guessed eating army’s ration for the next three weeks didn’t sound that bad. The afternoon went by too fast and before they knew it, they had to get on another train and get themselves back to Central. This time, no one sat in their compartment, which meant they could act like careless teenagers with no one to judge them.

Amelia instead decided that they had cuddled and made out enough and asked for indications on what she could do with her training.

“First, you’re putting on more weight. If I can feel your hipbones when I hold you, it means you’ll have no endurance.”

“WHAT?!”

“Just eat as you usually do, or stress eat if you need to.”

“But…”

“I’ll check with Irina about fighting styles. I can’t put you through a regiment training. Some girls take them pretty hard. You walk around town a lot already and you’re in good shape.”

“So, instead of training, you want me to grow fat?”

“No, I want you to have a healthy weight for your height. It’s different. As soon as I have an idea of which fighting style would work better for you, I’ll show you the basis.”

“How many fighting styles do you know about?”

“Many. I do better with weapons though. You feel like learning how to handle a gun?”

She paled.

“I thought so. It’s fine, Amelia, really. I don’t want you to change drastically. You just want to know how to defend yourself. Right now, I’d say I would be reassured if you didn’t go out too much. You remember that I mentioned a gruesome case before?”

“Don’t tell me it’s the guy who killed all those girls lately?”

He froze, his mouth still open. How had she heard about that?!

“Oh dear lord, it’s him?!”

“I am not telling you. But I think that he’s targeting women related to military people. And I’m seriously thinking about giving you cover-up guards for the time being.”

“So that’s why you took me out of Central. It wasn’t because you wanted to go out on a date or…”

“False. I wanted to go out with you. Getting you away from Central was just a part of the package deal.”

Amelia rolled her eyes. But she accepted the guards and promised to be careful. He made sure to walk her inside her aunt’s hotel and then rushed back to HQ. He was greeted with a panicked Baron before that he could even drop his single suitcase on his bed.

“I’m so glad you’re here colonel! Huh, sir,… There was another victim, sir. She was discovered an hour ago. We could be the first on the scene if we hurry.”

Wrath went back to his theories about that dreadful case as he quickly swapped clothes for his blue uniform.

“Did Butcher finished what I asked him?”

Baron nodded.

“Have him come with us. Is it far?”

They were answered by Irina, King’s sergeant and one of the feistiest lady of the military, as they walked back to the community room of their squad.

“North sector of the city. Half an hour drive. I can take you there, sir.”

“I don’t think you want to see what we’re going to find, lieutenant.”

“I can report on Butcher’s work. He’s currently busy with something else.”

“What could that be?”

“General Hopper didn’t say.”

Bradley decided to let it go and went out to investigate on the fresh crime scene. He wished Baron had told him who had called the army. The Kimblees’ household was a tall and dark place, much to the image of its owner. Kimblee had barricaded his two years old son in his room after making the macabre discovery of his wife’s corpse. He was waiting on the staircase leading to his home, his bandages gone, half his teeth visible through his blown-up jaw on the left side of his head.

 _Am I bad luck to the people I know?_ King wondered.

First Grumman’s daughter, now Kimblee’s wife. If anything happened to Juliett, he would end up believing something was highly wrong with him. Except from the fact he was a homunculus. And the weird upbringing. And the things running beneath the city that called him brother. Damn his whole life!

“What happened?” King inquired.

Kimblee opened his mouth as if ready to answer. A strangled sound escaped from his throat and he shrugged, clearly having a hard time. Baron stood to the right of Bradley and whispered to him:

“When he called, he said he’d just found his dead wife after coming back home. Apparently, he’s been out looking for jobs.”

 _Alibi_ , was the first word in Bradley’s mind. But he would still have to look through the shops to make sure this was true. How come Kimblee had no military pension and needed to look for job was suspicious though. But then again, the state preferred to pay for valid soldiers. Veterans this young were better off dead.

“Could you make sure he stays here, Baron? I’m going to inspect the scene.”

It wasn’t after walking inside the house that King realized he held suspicions over his old superior without a second thought. It barely sounded weird. Kimblee had always been a freak.

“Daddy! Get me out! Let me out!”

Kimblee’s boy was calling as he banged the door to his room. King decided it was better to leave him where he was for the moment. The boy would be devastated if he were to see his mother in the state she was in. Wrath had never really gave much attention to Kimblee’s wife, but the woman he found in the master’s room was hard to recognize. Her face had been burn, she was covered in cuts and parts of her insides were lying over the entire room. This didn’t look like the other crime scenes’ description. Though rape was still a part of the deal, King could tell just from the damn smell. He hated this part of his job. Their mad serial killer was still on the loose and turning a lot more gruesome in his antics.

“Good lord.” Irina whispered, almost turning away from the scene.

“Let’s just cover her up and look for clues before throwing up, sergeant.”

There was a kindness to his voice that wasn’t lost on her. They worked quickly. The front door was busted, which didn’t explain the fact the kid hadn’t notice something was wrong before that his father locked him up in a room. King was trying to stay logical about this, but nothing was. And a hysterical boy was still calling for his father to let him out, pretty much non-stop. King would have expected the son of his superior officer to be a lot quieter than that. The one thing he knew was that he wanted to run away from this room, because this was almost as bad as the sick pictures he kept from Amelia’s parents’ remains. When he could decently say he had taken every possible hint into account, he walked right out. Kimblee was still in the middle of his anguished crisis and King understood Baron had trouble getting the truth out of him. Then again, Baron wasn’t the man to run an interrogation.

“Let’s call it day, okay guys? Kimblee, you’re going into the army’s custody with your son, because you two obviously can’t stay here. How about we get him out of that room together?”

“S…Sure.”

The crest-fallen look on his not-so-far ago superior’s face made it hard not to feel bad for the man. They collected the boy, who was growing tired from yelling at the top of his lungs. Kimblee grabbed the kid by the hand while Zolf asked Bradley how he lost his eyes and demanded to see his battle scars.

King had never been happier to get away from a child as he was a few minutes later. He had acted all caring for the devastated invalid, but he didn’t feel any better about the case on his hands. And he wondered.

“Baron, can you tell me how Kimblee acted while I was inspecting the scene?”

“The men seemed quite shaken. Though he had a few weird reactions here and there.”

“He’s always been a weird fellow, but…”

King wondered when he had been hurt exactly. If the date of the first murder was close to his remission, than he had one potential suspect. And also one potential problem, since Kimblee knew about Amelia. But if his goal was to kill his wife…

_Why would he do that? He worshipped her…_

“Unless…”

Unless she refused to accept his new face. Unless she was scared by his appearance and acted differently with him. What man, already destroyed beyond repair, would want a loved one to turn away from him? As if he was some kind of monster. Bradley could actually understand the rage this would provoke. How unfair was that, when the man thought he was fighting to protect his family, to be shunned by the very family he lost half his face for.

“What did you say, sir?”

“Nothing. This is all conjecture, but I think we should keep a close eye on Kimblee.”

“You don’t believe…?”

“I’ve learned that there’s darkness in every men, Baron, trust me.”

“But going that far?” Irina whispered. “Disfiguring her? Pulling out her…”

Both of his men were pale, Baron seemed close to fainting and King felt his stomach churning in protest. Such an act was gross, even for human beings.

 …

The next few days were harsh on the man-made-homonculus. He had paperwork to rush through, he had interrogatories to run and he mandated the most trustworthy soldiers to guard Amelia. Grumman had had his going away party, with Brad as the driver in charge the other day. Central was emptying itself of friends and filling with crimes and vermin.

When King  received an invitation to visit the Mustangs, invitation extending to his fiancée, he didn’t know what to say. He called Juliett, trying to warn her that this wasn’t the time to party, but the xingese woman refused to hear any refusal.

“You need to change your mind every now and then, drink and have some fun, King. And I might convince you to decide on a date to marry Amelia. You’ve both waited enough, haven’t you?”

That surprised him more than he could say.  There was no obstacle left. Since his brothers and sister’s little experience, Father approved of his choice. He could have her. But as long as the killer was still on the run, could he truly say that no danger was left?

“I’ll talk with her and then we’ll let you know…”

“Be there, next Saturday around 5. I’m sure Roy will like her, Amelia has always been good with kids. Could you pass the invite to Grumman?”

“Eli’s already gone to East city.”

She sighed deeply in the phone and he felt his shoulders hunching lower. HQ already felt lonely without the blond excentric.

“One more reason to be there, Brad. I can’t wait to see you two.”

He was left wondering and without surprise, Amelia insisted on going and it was all settled. Saturday arrived too quickly to his taste, Kimblee hadn’t broken down with any admission of his potential crimes and the few known rapists around Central were already in custody or dead, meaning he might not have his madman already. It gave him a sense of foreboding that no one could truly understand. He picked up his girl, trying to stay calm despite what his instincts whispered to him.

“Didn’t you miss me?” she asked as he held her arm and walked her to the car.

“Sure I missed you, why do you ask?”

She twisted her neck to be able to look up at him.

“You didn’t kiss me as a greeting.”

He waited until they were buckled in his car, with both doors locked and the lights on to give her a warm kiss. It felt forced, but she didn’t mind. He was on edge and Amelia was resolved on being cheery for both of them. He drove them as far as the speed limits permitted, feeling slightly worried for no reason at all. The streets were already dark and the few people out seemed shady to him. He had a feeling, a feeling that crept up in his heart. It was stupid, but he had checked ten times if Kimblee was still in custody and called Juliett before to leave to pick up his girlfriend. Amelia stroked his left arm, making him jump slightly.

“Relax, for heaven’s sake. You can’t stay like this.”

He needed to divert her with something, because he knew he wouldn’t calm down until he’d be sitting in Juliett’s house, surrounded by walls, without shadows everywhere. He felt restless, ready to react at anything. His swords were on the backseat and he would take them inside the house. It was crazy, he knew it, but he needed some kind of reassurance.

“I have a surprise for you, Melia. Check the glove box.”

She was taken aback and obeyed, discovering a velvet box in the small cavity.

“You’re giving this to me like that, as you drive?”

“It’s not because I don’t care, but mostly because I don’t intend to be flashy. I’ve asked you many times already, and you’ve said yes countless time and I thought I should make it official?”

She opened the box, revealing a very simple ring, gold and silver intertwined. She remained silent, her mouth hanging open and her reaction diverted him from his current fears.

“You know, if you don’t like it, we can always return it. I had no idea which one to take and I thought you’d prefer something simple, but…”

Damn that woman, she managed to have him rambling like a teenager.

“Oh King, it’s perfect, I like it, I… Can I wear it?”

“You can try, though the size might be wrong.” He observed.

She almost squealed as it revealed to be a perfect fit. Luck, some would say, but King had complotted with Amelia’s aunt on this one, decided to prove he had honorable intentions to the severe woman. They parked safely along the road in front of the Mustangs’ house and she forced him into a loving hug, looking happier then when she’d opened the door and evaded her guards for the first time in a full week.

“Now, if you would relax just a bit…” she started saying before to be interrupted by a terrifying yell.

It sounded as if someone was dying. And it came from the house they were walking up to. King had left his swords in the car, knowing he had a gun on him and that being any warier would make Amelia worried. But now, his worst apprehension seemed justified.

Their reaction was instantaneous. The couple rushed into the house without thinking. King busted the door. The first thing he saw was Lloyd, the tall Amestrian that had snatched Juliett from Grumman way before Eli thought he had competition. The metallic smell of blood was everywhere. Amelia yelped in shock and fear, clasping at Bradley’s arm. He was seeing everything, but it felt wrong. The cut on Lloyd’s throat, his ripped knuckles, as if he’d been fighting, the whiteness of his skin. He was already done for, but still breathing, rasping. His eyes noticed them, though unfocused.

He emitted a breathy sound, his throat gurgling from all the blood and Amelia knelt next to him, tears already flowing from her eyes. She had never met him, but she could guess how scared he was. She tried to comfort him, somehow, anyhow. King felt empty and raw. This was so wrong. What had these people done wrong?

Stuff was knocked around on the upper floor and a baby whined. A final breathe escaped Lloyd and Amelia’s shuddering gasp was the only thing Bradley needed to hear.

“Get up, Melia. If I go check things upstairs, I want you by my side.”

_To make sure I can at least protect you…_

She followed, though she was trembling.

“I hope Roy is okay,” she whispered.

They almost flew up the stairs. The urgency was in both of them now. King had taken his gun out, removing the safety without even thinking. He checked every room they passed by, making sure no one was hiding. He was meticulous, even if he wanted to rush ahead. There was too much at stake. If he had to choose between Juliet and her son and Amelia, then his decision was already made up. But it wasn’t fair. If he found out this was the doing of another homunculus, he’d kill him, whichever of them it might turn out to be. If it was a human, one warped human being, he would destroy him. His inspections last two minutes.

Whenever Amelia tried to speak up, he shut her with a gesture or a glare and she complied, because he knew better. There were moans of pain over the baby’s crying and it made everything that should have been warm and welcoming in the house looking utterly creepy. King busted the fifth door, knowing the moans were behind it. Amelia was shaking next to him, but she was holding on. He hate himself for letting her in with him. A shadow ran through the dark room, toward the windows. Bradley aimed and shot two bullets in its head.  As the unknown person fell down, he shot three more rounds, just to make sure.

“Juliett?”

He barely recognized Amelia’s voice.

“Amelia? Brad?”

Juliett’s voice was filled with tears and suffering. Roy cried somewhere and his mother tried to shush him, before to have a coughing fit. It was so dark, King thought of removing his eyepatch to see more clearly. Amelia found a lamp and turned it on, shedding light on the scene. She held her breath, discovering the abused form of the former soldier on the floor, just lying in the middle of the room. There was blood. And other things none of them wanted to think about. Bradley felt Juliett’s eyes on him. His thoughts ran wild.

_If we had been here an hour earlier…_

“Get… Roy. I only had time to lock him … in the wardrobe.”

“Don’t speak, Jul, don’t…”

As they walked up to her, King saw it was too late. The veins on her right tight had been cut deep. Unless gold tooth was here with a philosopher’s stone, she had less than minutes. Tears were trickling down her face. Her clothes were torn up, one of her wrist broken, her ankles nailed to the floor. His throat closed up and he couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. Amelia swallowed and walked to the back of room, carrying the lamp with her. The light shook in the air. King looked at the bloody monster lying on the other side of the room. He wished that murderer wasn’t dead already and that he’d have his blades. Torture was too good for someone like that.

_Maybe if I had told her to move to another city…_

“Brad, how’s… Lloyd?”

He didn’t want to look at her, he couldn’t remember her like that. Ripped flesh, torn off hair, her blood seeping from her leg. Not Juliett, who’d sing and smile even through wars.

_This is why the others think having human friends is a weakness, right?_

“We didn’t see him yet. We’ll look all around the house.” He swore.

“Sugar-coating it for me?”

He knelt down to her, removing the bangs from her eyes, his throat still tight, his breath going too fast.

“You got him, right?”

She already looked like a ghost. The fact she was still alive shocked him. It defied everything he knew. Her good hand gripped at his jacket.

“Tell me that son of a bitch is dead, Brad.”

Blood trickled from her lips. Her movements was worsening everything. How could anything go worse from that?

“He’s dead, Jul. I didn’t let him escape.”

“Good.”

Her breathing burst out in coughs and King felt his anger bursting out of proportions too. This could happen to Irina, to Baron. To Amelia. And it would hurt him just as much, no matter if it was a mere friend. He couldn’t be hard, he couldn’t tough, there were no walls, no protection against this. Amelia rocked Roy in her arms. Brad saw the baby extending his arms towards its mother. How the woman holding him pressed his tiny face into her shoulder, making sure he couldn’t see, making sure the trauma wouldn’t go worse. The coughing fit slowed down, but Juliett gripped harder on Bradley’s jacket. He was scared to gather her in his arms, scared that moving her could just quicken her dead.

“I’m scared, I don’t want to…”

“Sh, Jul, it’s…”

He couldn’t lie. He couldn’t comfort her.

“Make it stop, Brad. Please.”

Was she asking him to end her life? Mercy for her but…

“It’s almost over, Jul. You’re not… We’re here, okay?”

“I’m sorry. The dinner must have burned.”

Amelia let out a nervous laugh. It was stupid. It didn’t matter. But who knew what to say when they were dying.

“Look after Roy for me, okay? Both of…”

And it stopped. Her breathing, her tears flowing, her life. King closed his eyes, counting up to three, trying to push his emotions away. To be stoic and strong. Amelia was trembling so much the oil lamp clanked in her hand. He gently took it from her, raising slowly to his feet. Amelia gasped in shock as he felt a pull and realized Juliett’s hand was still gripping to his jacket.

“Oh, please.” He groaned, detaching her from him.

Roy whined, feeling the fear of the adults around him. Amelia tried to comfort him, but she was deeply shaken. He escorted her out.

“Wait for me, okay? I won’t be long.”

She nodded, stroking Roy’s dark locks. King went back to check on the culprit. He rolled him on his back. Saw the knife, the marks on his arms and shoulders that were splattered with his own blood. Tattoos. Alchemy? It wasn’t Kimblee. It was a madman, a face that wasn’t even in Father’s reports on alchemists. He gritted his teeth. Grabbed a sheet and covered Juliett’s corpse, leaving her killer where he’d fallen. He’d sent his men in the morning. He’d call them right now. He’d…

He felt dizzy. Taking action now wouldn’t turn back time. But he needed the diversion more than ever.

He found Amelia walking back and forth in the hallway, blood drying on her skirt, her hands stroking Roy’s back. The boy was still such a small thing. And Bradley couldn’t help but to think back to his own family. This might have been like that. Some random psycho killing off both parents.

“What do we do now?”

“I’m calling the army. Then, I’m taking you and Roy back to my barracks until we find a solution for him.”

“Okay. I’ll grab some of his things than.”

“Stay with me, okay?”

She nodded, pinching her lips tightly together. This evening had turned into another nightmare. They went down to make the call. Amelia gave some food to Roy. They weren’t hungry themselves, but if the boy could eat, it would be better that way, wouldn’t it? On the way back up to gather some baby stuff, seeing Lloyd’s cadaver in the entryway felt as traumatizing as the first time.

“I keep asking myself why…” she whispered.

King wasn’t sure he wanted to know anymore. He had failed his friend. He remembered their talk. Saying that he would get that maniac before long. Being arrogant and carefree. Such a moron, he’d been! Grumman had done well, running away from Central.

“We should wait in the car. As soon as they’ll arrive, we’ll leave.” He promised her.  He mainly wanted to run. As they sat in the car, he relieved her from the baby, although he felt awkward holding him.

They sat in silence, both looking for something that could comfort the other and failing. In the end, Amelia spoke up, first:

“Oh no, I put blood on it.”

She was speaking of her engagement ring and quickly cleaned it but the picture had Bradley wondering… if this wasn’t a metaphor representing what he truly asked from her. Abandoning her life, her sanity and her heart. He wanted to apologize, but the anger was still too strong. They’d made him so powerful. He had been training so hard. He was supposed to govern over the entire country. And he still couldn’t save one single woman. Unless it was the one he wanted for him. Unless she was his. They’d gone too far already. He made up his mind, as the small orphan fell asleep in his arms. He would marry Amelia and keep her afloat despite the darkness filling their world. He’d made her happy as best as he could and even if he didn’t turn Fuhrer, it would be enough.

She owed it more than once.

To be continued…


	25. Wounds that never heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley decides he's been waiting long enough.

I chose you

Chapter 25 - Those wounds that never heals

The night went by like a well-crafted lie. A parody of black and cold truth. King gave orders and had the corpses evacuated, the house inspected and the culprit send to a specific kind of morgue. Namely the fifth lab, because for some reason, Father had let him know through Envy that the apprehended man would be studied by Gold tooth, death or alive. Wrath was terrified at the possibilities that entailed. But the ultimate taboo in alchemy hadn’t been broken by many humans in the last decades. They were still learning how to get there, as Father had instructed his every children to encourage them in that path.

Amelia was a tensed trembling mess, barely holding on for the sake of the baby in her arms. She shivered in the car, hoping they could flee like Bradley had sworn they would. When most of everything was in motion, he accepted to stop losing himself in the action. He escorted her back to his barrack. His men surrounded them, offering to take the baby, to fetch them food, warm clothes, drinks and countless other services. King felt overwhelmed. He was already picturing the funerals of Juliett, the look on Grumman’s face. He had failed his friends. Each of his friends.

“Leave us alone. All of you.” He simply asked.

Amelia wouldn’t let go of Roy and the three soldiers agreed to leave them. As his girlfriend sat on the corner of a desk, her shoulders sagging a bit more, King realized how wrong this felt. To see her in the middle of military files and the weapons hanging on the wall…

 _I need to get myself an apartment or something,_ he thought.

And there it was, a casual thought when nothing made sense, when he thought that the world was over. But Amelia was alive. Shaken after he’d been making it his top priority to get her back to better spirits, but alive.

“Would you mind if I leave you with Roy for a minute or two?”

It was the first words she pronounced since they’d exited the house.

“Of… of course,” he offered, taking the kid from her.

It was a bundle of warmth. It was alive. It was an orphan. And Bradley couldn’t help himself but believe that it was his fault.

Roy stirred against him, certainly feeling how uneasy the man was. King forced himself to relax, although his mind was still running wild. What would happen to the boy? Was there someone to take care of him? How old was he already, barely a year…

“Damn humans…” he muttered under his breath.

That was when he heard Amelia weeping even though she kept the water running in the bathroom. It reminded him of the awful day she had discovered her dead parents in her own house. This was not far from this. And he felt ready to break apart, once again. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, not this time. He had trained to get over this. He had trained to… to no avail.

“Amelia?” he called out.

“I’m… okay,” she replied in a muffled voice.

“I know you’re lying. Come back here with me…”

It sounded like a plea and Bradley was furious with himself for being so defeated. But he hid back his scowl as she walked back into the room, her eyes already red and puffy. The ring was still on her finger, and he could tell she’d just cleaned it, though there was blood on her skirt.

“It’s just… so awful,” she managed.

He sat himself on a desk not minding the paperwork that would get mixed up and extended one arm to her. She sat next to him, hiding her face in the hollow of his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his waist. And the tears fell in silence, as both their shoulders shook. They normally would have hold it back until Roy was settled in a bed, but they were both scared to let go of the boy. As if not holding him could mean that he would be swallowed by some shadows. The whole ordeal had been so surreal. When the worse had passed, King had a sore throat and no idea how to hold on the boy who was now squirming in his arm. They turned their mind to him, wondering if the Mustangs had made any plan for the baby.

Fortunately, they had. Lloyd had a sister, Mrs. Christmas, who showed up at headquarters the next morning. Amelia had ended up sleeping in King’s bed with Roy while the young soldier furiously worked on his paperwork. His squad members had took turns in showing up and warning him that he should get some sleep, but Bradley would hear nothing of it. Roy was given to his aunt and King brought Amelia back to her own aunt, looking the worse for wear.

Before to get off the car, his fiancée stood quietly next to him, looking rather pensive.

“I know everything feels wrong…” he started.

“No, don’t talk. Yesterday, you were a nervous wreck before that we even arrived to the Mustang’s…”

That reminded him of the day her parents had died and the anguish felt just as strong.

“I didn’t know this was…”

“I know, King, I know that. Otherwise, you would have prevented it. You loved Juliett like a sister.”

Hearing her saying it made it sound a lot more real.

“But why were you so nervous? It wasn’t about the proposal, you made it sound almost casual.”

“I’m sorry if you were disappointed that I didn’t kneel in some fancy restaurant.”

“I’m trying to understand what was wrong. Why you were on edge.”

“I was supposed to catch that monster. I knew he was aiming at women linked to the military somehow. At first I thought he had done whatever he did so that it would divert our attention from his real target. I thought I had him in custody that day and still…”

“So it was instinct?”

He nodded, gulping hardly.

“King, I don’t want you to go on a guilt-trip for the next few days. You don’t need that. You shouldn’t burden yourself. Sometimes, things happen, things that have nothing to do with… _them_ , you know. It’s still senseless and horrible, but there was some good out of this.”

Her voice was wavering as she said it and he held back a curse. How could anything good be linked with…

“If we hadn’t shown up yesterday... If you hadn’t been ready to face action, that man would have gotten away and might have done more victims. You prevented him from doing any more harm.”

She was right. He felt angry at her for being right, even though he was also grateful. He just wanted his feelings to deal with themselves and to only bathe in the warm and fuzz she created in his weary soul. She grabbed his hand, wanting to show him her support. He kissed her knuckles and apologized for not having any more time off to spend with her. They were both too emotionally drained by the events of yesterday. He walked her to the hotel door and then rushed back to headquarters. Wrath was immediately summoned to Gold tooth’s lab.

Like the diligent puppet that he was, Bradley went down to his former tutor. What he discovered down there fueled his anger once more. The corpse of their culprit was lying on an examination table. He had been stripped bare and suddenly the man-made homunculus understood why some people thought of dismembering corpses. It would have felt a little more fulfilling than the few bullets he’d fire in the guy.

“If it isn’t 12. Come on my boy, come on. You’ve brought me an incredible discovery.”

King noticed the tattoos all over the guy. Circle, stars, pentacles. Symbols of transmutation. That thing again, that had turned him into what he was. That thing that made his tattooed eye twitch in its socket.

_Alchemy._

“Was he… pursuing some kind of twisted experiment by…”

King couldn’t even finish his sentence. The scientist simply smiled in answer.

“You’re quite right. There’s a process where you can use some organs filled with the right components to create…”

“Enough. You don’t think there are other madmen like him around the city, do you?”

Gold tooth’s grin widened.

“Temper, boy, temper. We’ve been running tests on every victims. If we could find his lab, now, that would help us to confirm if he was working alone, but the tattoos on his skin hint to it.”

Bradley wondered why they would need anything in the lab, until his mind did the math. He wretched, even if he hadn’t eaten anything in the last twelve hour. The acid taste of bile that filled his mouth drove him mad. Why was he so sensible? It was just different type of matters bunched together, it wasn’t…

Living being, living organs that had been ripped out and…

If anything managed to top that in his crazy list of nightmares, Wrath swore to himself he’d kill one of the homunculi.

“I’ll find it. You’ve got his identity checked?”

“You messed him up good with those shots, you know. His dentals are partially gone and only military personnel have detailed files on such things.”

“Darn it to hell.”

…

The week went by quickly, with King neck deep in search parties and breaking in suspicious places and rents. He found the maniac’s lab in four days. The whole thing hadn’t been easy, he’d pretty much shaken up a quarter of Central, but the light had been shed on the killer practices. It was also helpful to identify anyone who could have teach the man in this alchemic theory. His notes were gathered, studied and a warrant was sent against any alchemist in Central who hadn’t been registered to the army. Bradley was put in charge of the search and started a vendetta that would benefit Father in identifying alchemists. The one problem was that any alchemist possessing anything closely looking like the theory of the mad rapist was sentenced to death by default and it wouldn’t make getting any sacrifices for the promised day easier.

So basically, Father needed to give the humans a diversion from their grudge against alchemists too versed or interested in organic alchemy. So Lust and Envy got down to what they did best. They started rumors throughout Amestris. About corruption in the East and what the new railroad would truly bring to the country.

King was solving cases over cases and pushing down crimes as he hunted alchemists. He made sure that the Hawkeye guy who had knocked up Elizabeth Grumman wouldn’t be pursued by anyone. He hated the man by principle, but Grumman grand-daughter didn’t need to lose her entire family like the little Roy Mustang had. The weeks went by, turning into months. Amelia saw Bradley weekly and they walked around parks, going out to restaurants or museums around the city, doing what civilized people do during a courtship. It also meant they would sneak out in Amelia’s room every now and then for extensive make-out sessions that left them both flustered and slightly frustrated, but after all the wait, King would be damned if he couldn’t wait the entire way.

They didn’t know when they would finally make the jump and decide on a date for their wedding, but they were both really anxious to have the right to live together. It was alright with Father, and Amelia’s aunt was starting to warm up to King, since he had been quite patient. The fact his fame was rising as the protector of the people around the whole country certainly helped.

The railway development in the east was being severely held back by manifestations and it was dangerous for the troop’s deployment in case of any invasion. The east was in full expansion after all and anyone with a brain knew that if the country was well linked by railways and trains, Amestris could prosper even more. That was when Colonel Bradley was suggested for an important operation.

“If you succeed in overseeing the completion of the railways across the east, you’ll be a brigadier-colonel before you know it.”

But this meant years, years in the east away from Amelia and King realized at that instant that they’d both waited enough. He was supposed to leave in 10 days. He was eating with the Corsaires ladies that very night. Little time for big plans, but he’d seen worse.

…

“You should see their son, he’s barely two years old and he’s already reaching my shoulders. If he can put on some muscles, he’ll rival his father in no time.”

Amelia was gently holding Bradley’s stare, looking lovelier than ever. She had put on some weight, which pretty much meant her bones were covered as they once were. She’d started the training he’d suggested, though they’d never got down to sparring together so that she’d learned a few self-defence moves. He was always running at the every wimp of either Father or the Fuhrer. Every time he saw Amelia, he loved her more. And he told her so whenever they could be alone. At one point, he’d thought he would always feel shame when he’d desired her, because of what had been done to Juliett and of the awful things he’d seen during the war. But there was no shame. He knew how fulfilled she was making him feel and he wanted that feeling as often as he could have it. The railways would take years to manage, constant travel and he had enough letters to last him for a lifetime.

“There is a question I need to ask from both of you,” he declared at some point where Amelia’s aunt had stopped talking to eat a bit.

“Go on, dear,” was Amelia encouragement.

“We’ve been engaged for over six months now, if not more, I’ve lost counts somewhere, but I know one thing. My life is not going to slow down and I’m leaving again for a mission that might last longer than any war I’ve fought before.”

She turned two shades paler and instantly, King was standing up and walking to her side of the table to grab her hands, soothing her fears with a single look.

“It won’t really be dangerous, just… time consuming. And I don’t want to waste any more time waiting for the right time. I’m leaving for the East in ten days, and though it will be awfully rushed, I wished we’d get married before that, so that when I’ll leave, you can come with me.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

But Amelia dismissed her aunt’s worries, too excited to think clearly.

“Would we have a house?”

“It wouldn’t be permanent, but we’ll have an apartment in every city I need to move to for supervising the railways’ development. We have the ring, it can be a military ceremony or something quiet and peaceful around here.”

His aunt-in-law glared at him and he quickly added.

“I would rent the entire hotel for the time it takes to prepare everything, whatever you charge.”

“King, surely you don’t have to…”

“I can provide and I will, Amelia.”

She stood up to wrap him in her arms, while her aunt threw her hands in the air, exasperated and anxious.

“You think we can organize a wedding in a matter of days? Mere days?”

The couple exchanged a brief kiss before to get back to her.

“I guess it’s unorthodox, but I would like for it to be as intimate as possible. Amelia will have enough publicity of being my wife in the future.”

“So you’re ashamed of her?!”

“Of course not, auntie, he’s looking out for me, that’s all.”

“But we must think of flowers. The food is not a problem and I’m pretty sure Amelia has already chosen her dress from the shopping we did a few weeks ago, but this… You should have warned us at least a month ago!”

She seemed ready to go into hysterics, but Amelia calmed her down, reminding her that the guest list would be kept to close friends only. King had no family and most of their friends had died in the few last months. It would only be the three of them, the pastor, Grumman and three or four more people.

“Okay then, okay, in six days you’ll have your wedding. But you’re both in charge. I’ll take care of the food and that’s about it.”

“How come you choose the date!”

“Because it’s the only date we don’t have any important reservations that I can’t cancel. And because if I don’t give you a time limit, you’ll go off gallivanting and eating each other face until I remind you of reality.”

“For god sake… We don’t…!”

“Enough! I’ve had enough of you two already. You’ll give me a heart attack one of these days.”

But even as she said that, it was clear that she was happy to see Amelia beaming with joy in Bradley’s arms. She had gotten to like the young man.

An hour later, the couple was sitting together in Amelia’s room, trying to process that there were really going to take the risk of getting married.

“I thought I would be the quiet wife waiting for you back home.” She mused.

“At first, I’d thought so too, but that was only when I was absent for a few months. I know it might be dangerous to take you with me to the east now, but if it last for years… I better bound you to me to make sure you’re not whisked away by some other guy.”

“That would never happen. Not after all we’ve been through already. You chose me, and I chose you.”

He smiled at that, even though there was an underlying bitterness to her words. He knew she still needed healing. If she was ready to put up with him and all the crazy and awful stuff it meant, they might heal together.

“Don’t forget I might not take you with me on every of my assignments.”

“I know,” she retorted. “But I might be able to have you changing your mind by then, King.”

She pulled his face to hers, her lips welcoming his in a tender kiss that soon turned into full demanding and hushed breath. Happiness could still exist. They would still taste it. As he held her, the man-made homunculus couldn’t help but to think that all the wait was almost finally over. That night, it felt terribly hard for Bradley to leave. He did for her aunt’s sake. But something within him counted the days left before that his one and only personal choice could finally take place.

Asking for a military officer to officiate the ceremony meant his whole squad learned about it. Irina, and Baron begged him to let them come. He obliged, knowing he’d rather see their faces around than Lust or Envy. Father didn’t summon him and he could focus on his work while time seemed to slow down. He kept receiving calls from either Amelia or her aunt. The decorations and required furniture were prepared, a cake was ordered, Mrs. Christmas was invited and the few maids who had worked around the hotel also. Before that Bradley knew it, the press had learned of the event and the colonel’s wedding was all over the front pages. He was recognized by almost everyone when he walked out on the streets and there was not a citizen of Central that could pass on the chance to congratulate him.

On the last night before the fateful day, King sighed in despair as Amelia warned him that the guests had reached two hundreds. He should have just brought the officer and have the wedding done on the night he thought of it.

“What if it rains?” her sweet voice asked through the phone.

“I guess we’ll be wet. Amelia, please, you’re driving me crazy.”

“But the whole thing turned out of proportions. We were supposed to keep it simple!”

“How did your aunt even manage enough food for two hundred persons?! Can we fit them in the hotel?”

“We can’t, they’ll be in the streets, waiting for us to walk out and into the car, weren’t you listening a minute ago?”

He chuckled at her reprimanding tone.

“I’m slow tonight... This is my last day as a free man and my men forced me to drink the whole day.”

“Poor thing. While you were drinking between every files, I was busy making sure our wedding wouldn’t turn into utter chaos.”

“I did order the best soldiers as guards to supervise the whole thing.”

She laughed at that, in her full, genuine laugh. His heart yearned to see her face. Not to have to picture her eyes and their twinkle.

“To think it was supposed to be simple…”

“I know…. I miss you.” He sighed.

“We’re always on the phone.”

He ran one hand through his hair, pulling off his eye patch. His ouroborous was itching. He felt restless. Anxious. In need.

“Amelia…”

His voice was open, wide open to the void in his chest at the idea that tomorrow would be a mere dream, at the idea that something, anything could happen and snatch his dream away.

“What’s wrong? You sound like a mess…”

“You’re a nervous wreck, you’re one to talk.”

They could tell just from the damn phone.

“King, where are you right now?”

He looked around him, loosening the collar of his uniform that suddenly felt too tight. The walls seemed to move toward him and the shadows were glaring right at him, eyes hiding everywhere. Was he really going to force her into his world? Had he the right? Had he any right?

“In my office, where else?” he retorted.

“Don’t get defensive. I miss you too. I just want us to be tomorrow night, to be alone together.”

He couldn’t think of that. He would lose the little control he had on himself. He had forced himself to wait for this. He’d been waiting years. And it was eating him up now. To think he would have her to himself for a night, a single, short, less than twelve hours night before that they would have to rush to the train station and the East. Grumman would be on the same train. Obnoxious toward him and full of praise for his bride. King could already picture it from here. But that torture would be fine. Because after their arrival, after each hard day of work, he would walk home to his wife.

“It’s almost midnight.” He noted. “We’ll be tomorrow in minutes.”

“We should really get some sleep.”

He could hear her aunt behind her, patronizing her once again. That would be over in less than hours.

“Melia, stay safe, okay?”

“Are you still worried, even now?”

“Always. I can’t help it.”

“I’ll be safe, Brad. And you’ll train me so that I can defend myself during the next few months, won’t you?”

She was intent on that.

“I think I should hang up before I say something improper.”

“You certainly should, then. I love you.”

“So do I. Goodnight, darling.”

“Goodnight my dear King.”

It felt incredible. The manmade homunculus felt like a daydreaming teenager. It was then that something had to burst his bubble. Gold tooth walked in the room.

“We need you in the lab, 12.”

The name had never changed. Would never change. King followed him down, his bubble gone and the dream a frail cloud that he tried to keep bundled under his uniform, next to his heart.

“Since you’ll be gone for a few months, we’d like to run a few tests.”

The tests lasted six hours and left Bradley disgusted with everyone around him. The dream was but a speck of light in the back of his heart. He had been probed, cut, burned, healed with philosopher stones and cut again. When he walked back into the barracks, his men told him he should get some sleep. One Envy soldier told him that Father wanted to see him. King went undergrown to receive his last orders before his departure. The wedding wasn’t even mentioned.

Back with the humans, Irina and Baron tried to force him into his bed. He agreed to a nap and ended up sleeping the whole morning. Grumman rushed him to a shower and King reached the point where he didn’t understand what was going on around him anymore. Everyone hurried him up, but time seemed to move too slowly. His suit felt a little too tight, though everyone assured him he looked dashing. The car that would escort him to the hotel was too black, too dark. He could swear purple eyes were glimpsing at him from beneath the wheels. His friends, subordinate and fellow soldiers took things under control, explaining his disarray on the stress.

Bradley was drove around, followed by a cortege of supporters. His fame outranked anything a simple colonel should have. Grumman told him as much. Brad didn’t listen. Everything felt unreal. He spotted Lust among the people cheering in the street, right in front of the hotel. His throat tightened. He smiled as he walked out of the car, but it was all for good measures, because the dream was gone, replaced by fears and doubts. He had taken so many things from Amelia already. Could he…

_Why should I doubt now? She wants this. I mean… me._

He tried to picture the armies he’d fought. The sight of Juliett’s corpse. Amelia trying to crush his bones, trying to hurt him because she was hurting too much. Just to remind himself he had faced much much worse than his own wedding. But he hadn’t been as ready as he thought. There were flowers on the walls, petals on the aisle. His aunt in law was crying from joy, Mrs Chistmas was balancing the small Roy Mustang on her hip while she gave directions to the caterers for the banquet. A senior officer, one general that King couldn’t quite put a name on, was waiting at the end of the aisle.

“What have you done with your hair?” miss Corsaire asked him, holding a curse.

He shrugged, feeling like a schoolboy. No one was letting him out of their sight, everyone seemed to think he lacked one last thing thanks to some traditions. Grumman undoing and redoing his cravat while Amelia’s aunt fixed his hair. And the worse was that King needed that chaos to get through every more minutes of waiting. He’d never been to a wedding in his life. Things had been so rushed, there had been no practice for it. He had thought things could be kept simple, but half of Central was gathering in the neighboring streets. He could hear them outside. It made him all the more agitated. The dream was a nightmare of complication and potential riots. He couldn’t help himself. What if one of the homunculi decided it might be fun to cause a scene? What if Father wanted a crest of blood in Central suddenly? He had received orders that said otherwise.

But King had no control on anything, everyone was calling orders before that he could, his voice was lost in his throat and the bride was running late, as another damn tradition asked for it. He wanted to feel like himself, to get a hold of the situation as he’d done when he’d decided on the wedding in the first place. But this wasn’t a battlefield, not now, and everything had planned and laid out. When the music started, he barely managed not to jump. He had checked and been asked a hundred times if he had the ring. Grumman had sworn to be his witness, but refused to hold any more responsibilities.

Bradley was looking for shadows and potential enemies when his mind should have been at peace. Only when Amelia showed up, at the beginning of the aisle, standing behind two bridesmaids, dressed in pure white and beaming, shining from joy, only then could he focus. He forgot the purples eyes his experiments-abused mind had pictured. He forgot the bleeding, the bruises and the dreadful red stones. All his impatience was back, the feverish worrying gone. Well, not entirely, not until she was standing next to him. It hurt not to reach for her. She was almost his. He saw how nervous she was. How happy. And not entirely carefree, despite her bright smile. She might cry from the sheer emotion she was feeling.

His choice. His wife. He barely heard his senior officer’s words. His eyes could look at nothing but her. He felt as if he was slowly freeing himself from some chains. And she could tell that although he wasn’t relaxed as he stood next to her, he was happy, in his own way.

“We come now to the words the bride and groom wants to hear the most today, the words taking them across the threshold of engagement to marriage. A marriage is, as we would define it, the full commitment of one’s life to one another, with the exclusion of anyone else. This union is entered with the desire and hope that it will last for life.”

King had no idea how long his life would last. Long enough for him to become Fuhrer. Long enough for Father’s plan to bear fruition. But he was ready to spend it with the woman he’d chose to love. The rings were exchanged, a lot of words were said, until the point of no return.

“Amelia Corsaire, I need you to tell me if you’re really willing to wed this man standing before us today, King Bradley. Do you come freely, giving yourself as his wife and ready to take his name? If so, say I do.”

“I do.” She said, without an instant of hesitation.

Bradley’s imagination was warning him that this was too good to be true. But Amelia held his hands in her and they were now facing each other, ready to vow themselves to each other.

“King Bradley, I also need you to tell me if you’re really willing to wed this woman standing before us today, Amelia Corsaire. Do you come freely, giving yourself as her husband and ready to give her your name and protection? If so, say I do.”

“I do.”

Nothing bad was happening. Nothing bad would happen. He had to temper himself. He wanted to check their surroundings, but he couldn’t look away from her face, from her green eyes that were smiling.

“You can now say your vows.”

Amelia started, immediately followed by King. They had compromised for this part, thinking it wasn’t necessary to expand the ceremony. Their voices mixed together and the small crowd sighed at hearing the unity that already reigned between them.

“I, Amelia” “I, Brad”

“take you, Brad” “take you, Amelia”

“to be my husband” “to be my wife”

His voice almost break on the word as the emotion got the better of him, but her hands squeezed his fingers, cheering him on.

“I will share my life with yours”

“build your dreams together”

“support you through times of trouble, and rejoice with you in times of happiness.”

“I promise to give you respect, loyalty and love through all the trials and triumphs of our lives together.” Their voices were perfectly synced, as if they were breathing the same air, stopping at the same point. King had vowed for this day to be perfect for her, so she could cherish the memory and it was still perfect. A single tear ran down Amelia’s face and he wiped it with a tender brush of his thumb.

“I vow to stay by your side, to give you my life and all of my love, renewed every day we have together.”

A held back sigh escaped from the crowd and the general took a slight step back, whispering:

“I declare you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

The acclamations started, but King couldn’t hear them. Amelia was finally in his arms, rightfully his. She kissed him back, not caring for the people looking, not even caring if she messed up his hair. She was just as thrilled as him. He felt as if he’d waited forever for that moment. When he let go of her, they were both breathless and the cheers were deafening.

“Can we… can we run now?” he asked her, as low as he could.

She laughed and gave him a peck on the lips, their fingers intertwining.

“Bear with them for a few more hours. You’ll rule them one day.”

They turned to the crowd, almost feeling like saluting. The banquet would start and food would be distributed along the streets. There would be dancing, but at the moment, King wasn’t annoyed by any of the delays he had to deal with. His wife was standing right next to him. And he knew she was the best choice he could ever made.

To be continued…


	26. Un-lonely night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King can finally love his wife... if his nerves let him.

I chose you – Chapter 26

Un-lonely night

Three short dances were held at the bigger hotel where the night would end, after the banquet and the car ride that last for a full hour thanks to the crowd that wanted to see the newlyweds. King had learned to dance as part of his training to become Fuhrer, much to Amelia’s surprise.

“To think the first ball you take me to would have to be on our wedding.” She teased him.

“It’s not the last one, trust me.”

They twirled and waltzed, still acting as if no one was around them. Brad had managed to keep his full attention on Amelia and to tune off anyone else. Around the second song, they were interrupted by a children voice, soon followed by Mrs. Christmas impressive voice.

“I’m sowy, sir, but…”

“Roy, you shouldn’t…”

The toddler could walk just fine and had been running around, despite the attention of Grumman and Mrs. Christmas. He was pulling on Amelia’s skirt, but looking up to King, his dark eyes reminding the soldier of Juliett’s.

“What is, sweety?” Mrs. Bradley asked the small boy.

“Can I…” He blushed and looked down to his feet before to look back up. “Can I have a dance with miss Amelia too?”

The couple exchanged a look. King was slightly annoyed, despite this being his best friends’ son. But Amelia looked charmed and Bradley accepted to share her for a few minutes. He nodded to her, slowly taking in their surroundings, falling back in his old soldier habits. The boy couldn’t mean any harm. Mrs. Christmas seemed ready to protest, but he dragged her away as Amelia gave a curtsy to the child.

“I’m honored, Roy.”

His ears turned a bright red, but he smiled as she took his small hands. Two twirls later, she had raised the boy in her arms, and King knew then his fate was sealed. She would ask for a child of their own soon. He would put it off for a few years to have her to himself. And at some point, he might bend, although Father had other plans. He tried to push back any thought about the homunculi. About Amestris’ real fate. About the chains that still bounded him to a life he would claim and reclaim as many time as needed. Today was a day for his human self, not the monster inside. His anger had to remain quiet. He needed all the self-control he had to treat Amelia right.

“So, Brad, tomorrow morning, we’ll finally be equal, huh?” Grumman asked him playfully.

King groaned while Barron, who had caught the exchange, looked puzzled.

“I won’t be divorced.” Bradley answered him.

“Oh come on, that stings. I meant about your…”

“Don’t force me to make a scene, Eli and don’t finish that sentence.”

The teasing had been expected. Unwanted, because it only meant more pressure when Bradley thought of what was coming next… His body was a mix of anxiety and euphoria. He wanted to take Amelia away with him right now. To have what all their previous encounters hadn’t given him. But if he let this train of thought go, he would lose himself. So instead, he stared at her intently. Noted the waves in her complicated hairstyle. The way her dress complimented her curves. Followed her exposed neckline and picturing her naked back. Everything he still had to see for himself. He wanted to shower her in love. To let her know how much he meant it. Tonight was only for them. Only about her. No war, no fight, no homunculi, and no threat. He swallowed as his tattooed eye twitched. His eyepatch was staying on tonight.

As the dance ended, King walked back to his wife, unable to refrain the giddy feeling that very thought gave him. His wife. It felt natural to slip his arm behind her back. The way she leaned into him, the way she followed him before he’d even taken one step. They were the picture of unity. In the middle of the festivities, they decided to retire for the night. It felt strange to know how many people were around, how many people knew about them being together. King wished for more secrecy. He wished he could just take her out in the night, rush to the other side of the country and take a few months off to themselves. He sure needed it. But Amelia assured him it would be fine. No one would dare disturb them. The night was theirs.

…

The train ride seemed to last forever. While Amelia was dozing off, her head leaning on his shoulder, Bradley had to go through Grumman’s updates over East City. He might be taking his brand new wife with him, but the manmade homunculus still had a job to do. The only thing reassuring him was the constant pressure on his shoulder, where Amelia leaned, and the tingle in his half asleep arm that was wrapped around her shoulders. He had no trouble focusing despite Grumman’s teasing. Last night had been… It felt so close, he wasn’t sure he could ever get over it. But he was a lot more relaxed than he’d been.

…

The door locked with a click and Brad felt something shifting inside him. He had her waiting for this for such a long time, he was starting to worry a bit. A look in her eyes told him just how nervous she was. He breathed her in. Held his breath. Let it out and gave her a quick but passionate kiss. She almost melted in his arms.

“I can’t believe this is happening.” Amelia whispered.

“Believe it, Mrs. Bradley.”

She grinned before to roll her eyes.

“You’re not going to call me that a full week, are you?”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of it. But I’ll restrain myself.”

She pulled on his collar, to kiss him again, longer. And it wasn’t improper, no matter what they did. She was his. They were still standing, but his knees went weak as her hands snaked over his back and her lips opened for him. She was standing with her back to the door, framed by his arms. He could have taken her right there. She smelled so damn good. He raised her from the floor, needing her closer. Closer than physics allowed. Her dress was simple, the skirt not too big and the fabric felt soft beneath his fingers. But he knew her skin was softer.

Something carnal was taking over him. It was too strong, visceral, like the wrath he always contained. She was his, just almost his. Still not entirely belonging to him. The fact he thought that felt wrong. He held her as if she could dissolve between his hands. As if this was still a dream that he could awoke from. He needed her. He kissed the spot beneath her left ear, before to give a playful bite on her earlobe as she massaged his scalp. He felt like tearing her dress off of her. It scared him because he had never wanted to be this rough with her…

…

“We’re here!” Grumman almost shouted.

The one-day-long train ride was over, and they disembarked, feeling sore from sitting up for too long and uncomfortable sleep. Amelia followed them closely, but refused to cling to Bradley during their walk out of the station. She seemed excited but also preoccupied. Grumman bid them farewell as they slipped into a cab that would take them to their apartment. It was rented by the army, so King wasn’t expecting anything fancy, merely practical living quarters. He tried to get Amelia to speak up her mind, but she remained quiet, focusing on the scenery, her hand barely squeezing back his. He wondered if she would be back at being herself once they’d be entirely alone. Was she regretting the other night, or was she just tired from the wedding and the ride?

As they got off the car, she seemed to realize how worried he was and gave him a full smile. She waited until they were out of ear-shots, in the staircase to their apartment, with him unlocking the door.

“It’s my first time having a place of my own. I’ve never been in this city and with what Grumman was telling, I bet you’ll be working 24 hours a day to straighten things.”

“So you’re anxious. I guess things are moving a little fast after all this waiting and doing things properly.”

She nodded and motioned to walk in the door, but he stopped her. Their luggage had been delivered separately, curtesy of the military.

“There’s only one way you’re crossing this threshold for the first time, Mrs. Bradley.” He warned her teasingly.

An instant later, she was raised from the floor and gasping slightly as he carried her inside, bridal style. Her genuine laugh filled his ears, until he set her down on their kitchen’s counter and warned her that he wanted to inspect the place.

“Are you always inspecting new environments?”

“Only when I know that I might be considerably distracted…”

…

She pulled on the string from his eye patch and he backed away, breathless and anxious.

“King…”

She wanted to reassure him, but she was worried by his reaction and she had every right to be.

“Amelia, don’t… don’t take the eyepatch off. Tonight, I want to…”

He swallowed, hard. He already felt vulnerable and nothing had started. She gave him time, her lips too red, her cheeks a wonderful pink, her hands on his wrists.

“I want you to see me as a man. Just that.”

“It’s what I see in you, King. Why do you…?”

“Please. You can do everything you want to me. I just don’t… want to scare you.”

She nodded, blushing a bit, before to undo his tie and wrap her arms around him. Her heels clicked on the floor. Her eyes were aligned with his. Her lips brushed against his jaw. She slowly worked on unbuttoning his shirt. Her fingers seemed clumsy on the fabric. Her nails brushed against his skin. He sighed into her neck. He had to control himself. Even though he felt ready to crumble beneath her hands. Ready to ravish her in all the pent-up passion he’d kept without knowing.

He pulled her face back to his and kissed her again. And again. He undid her hair somewhere in the process. Tried to stay gentle in every move, every caress. Forgot to breathe and suddenly remembered one thing. He gently pushed her back to look in her eyes.

“Did you like your day so far?”

“Of course I did!” she laughed. “What about you?”

He shrugged.

“I’m so stressed out right now, I think I could forget all of it.”

She stroked his face, her smile easing some of his fears. He had never tried himself at being with a woman. Was too repulsed at first from what he saw during his first wars. Too ashamed because of Lust suggestive eyes and demeanours. And then Amelia lighted the fire within him, let him appreciate closeness, warm hands, tenderness.

“I’m stressed out too, Brad. Maybe is it because we feel somewhat forced into this… It doesn’t have to be any different than what we did together before.”

But it was different. Because they would go all the way for once. And he had no idea what he could do to her. No idea if the rage that mixed with this passion could be kept down.

“How do you… I feel like I’m still rushing things.” He groaned.

“It’s fine…”

And her hands were back on his skin, running down his stomach, turning his insides and his heart into a mess. He grabbed her wrists and halted her motion.

“I need to check the room. Make sure we’re safe.”

She paled and rolled her eyes.

“You’re way too nervous about this.”

He ignored her teasing, needing to ascertain his control over himself. King inspected the room and the small adjacent bathroom, making sure no one was hiding anywhere. He wanted the mad beating of his heart to settle. He wanted his mind to clear from the contradicting thoughts. Amelia sat on the edge of their bed, watching him pacing around the room and moving furniture around. There was a smile in her green eyes. Her messed up hair were alluring. She removed a few wrinkles on her skirt and straightened her top, her heels given up without a thought. He took a moment to stare at her, unashamed that she could see just where his eye was traveling. Her cheeks were pale behind their blush and her voice was low when she asked him.

“Are we safe, my dear King?”

He didn’t feel safe. He didn’t feel in control. He walked up to her, gulping down the bundle of stress that had formed in his throat. He was afraid she could back away. He remembered the last night they had been together in a hotel that didn’t belong to her aunt. The nightmares she had because of him. The hands of another man, touching her, tearing her clothes, hurting her.

Words rushed to his lips, apologies, regrets, promises he couldn’t give. He had just vowed to protect her for her entire life. And Father planned to destroy the entire country one day. This, he would never tell, never tell her, he swore to himself.

Instead of talking, he slipped his hands on her waist. Lifted her from the bed and pushed her back down, so he could tower over her. Her arms went to his shoulders. Grabbed the shirt still covering his back. He bent down to kiss her lips, letting the panic overwhelm him for a single moment. She pulled at the fabric of his shirt, kissing him back, her legs wrapping around his waist. She felt warm and tasted sweet. He stole her breath, his shirt crumbling to the floor, soon followed by more garments.

…

“Is it safe? Can I check out the rooms now?” she asked him playfully when he walked back in the kitchen.

“How about waiting that I leave you alone to work 24 hours a day. I haven’t had enough of you yet.”

She shivered at the idea of being deprived from his presence so soon, until his arms were around her and his lips on her mouth. She welcomed the embrace, tangling herself to him, letting him kiss her senseless and gratifying him with caresses and cute moans. The gestures weren’t entirely familiar, not in every area, but damn was it intoxicating to just be together. Although she was still quite sore and stiffened when he seemed ready to take her right there, on the kitchen’s counter.

“Brad, Brad, please… I don’t mean to tease you, but…”

She needed some time to heal. His friends and subordinates had warned him a long time ago of the possibility. He understood, he wouldn’t force her, never, but this was still so new.

“I may still please my wife. I want to hear my name on your voice.” He asked her, his hands gently undoing the knots in her hips and lower stomach.

She soon blushed, but couldn’t resist him. If she was going to have him around at restricted times, she needed to make the more out of it. King couldn’t believe he had grown so bold in the space of 48 hours.

…

Amelia shivered under his gaze, as he tempered his impatience and set on a mission to soothe her as much as she’d managed to soothe him. Every limit could be crossed now and he wanted her to warn him, to keep him in check before that he’d hurt her without knowing. Words that held promises were ushered and love was given free rein. He took his time to discover her, taking down one layer of clothing at a time, until he reached the clothing of her soul. Then he watched her, wishing he could memorize her with his eye and fingers, much to her embarrassment.

“Brad, there’s nothing to act like this, it’s just… the bare me.”

She was scared, so scared despite her boldness and he kissed the fear away, whispering how perfect she was. And he knew that imperfections were showing at some places. But he felt so imperfect himself, so inadequate in so many ways. And still, she wanted him, she’d married him.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s making me more self-aware.” He warned her between heated kisses.

To be this open felt strange, but it wasn’t making him entirely vulnerable. He felt lighter. Freer.

“You’re handsome, Brad.”

“And still, you’re scared.” Time stopped right then.

She smiles, she blinks, and she presses her nails to his shoulder blades. Demanding, begging. Tangling his locks with her fingers. Replacing the eye-patch that threaten to slip off. His heart could stop. His blood must not be running right. His brain nurture incoherent thoughts. She’s not scared of him, barely scared of this. She wants him. And he wants her.

“Hold me, please.”

“Say my name, Melia.”

And she complied in a voice that drove him over the edge.

King took her whispers, her sighs and her soft whines for music. He’d liked eliciting such feelings in her before, but now he craved it. And Amelia wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder, despite her own nerve-wrecking mind that had been dreading and wishing for this at the same time. He had been lost all his life and finally found.

Pain and pleasure. Intermittent waves. A mad rush of feelings and emotions that took away their words, that took away anything that wasn’t her or wasn’t him.

When she cuddled in his arms, spent but sated, King felt accomplished for the first day since a long time. There were no doubt left, no question and certainly no fear. He’d never felt this alive or this safe. And for once, he had hopes that this was just a start. He had earned the right to choose her. And if he could love her like he did, if he could be human despite the monstrosity within him, nothing, not even Father would stop him.

…

“Brad? You awake yet?”

He pressed his face against her chest, glad for her warm skin and the goosebumps his breath created on her skin. Not to mention her hands traveling across his back and the good shivers he was trying to supress.

“That’s a yes, ain’t it?”

“What’s the hurry, Melia?”

“I wanted to make sure you’d hear me. I love you, Mister Bradley.”

“It’s colonel,” he teased her.

She toyed with his hair and he realized the eyepatch had slipped off in his sleep. For once, that didn’t scared him. He raised himself a bit, to gaze into her eyes. With both eyes. And she didn’t flinch or moved back. That lie was far behind them.

“You know, that’s not really what I was expecting you to say…”

“If the answer becomes automatic, there’s no meaning to the words. Like when a soldier just go, sir, yes sir, because that’s what’s expected.”

She huffed before to laugh and push him back into the bed.

“It is way too early in the morning for you to be this serious.”

He might have protested if her hands hadn’t done unspeakable things to certain parts of his anatomy. Now, he was fully awake and seriously interested. Little to say, they might not have walked out of the room four hours later if they didn’t have a train to catch. King barely managed to dress in his uniform while Amelia took a brief shower to refresh herself before their long travel. He was slightly famished, his nerves preventing him from eating anything from the banquet last night, trying not to wonder how many times in a single night they could… Well, he simply tried to realign his thoughts. They had received their goodbyes from most of their friends the other day, but Grumman and Amelia’s aunt were accompanying them to the train station.

He knew Grumman would pick on him by principle. He didn’t really care at the moment. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever care again for such small things. He hadn’t grown or matured overnight, but some things had changed in his perspectives. Words came back to his mind, words that electrified him.

Don’t forget our goal, Father had warned him.

He shook his head, wondering if he had gotten a little too carefree during the last few hours. Or if the idea that was flourishing in his mind since he took Amelia to this small town during the winter was a good one. About working on his own plan, in the background of the homunculi’s operations.

Later, he thought. I’ve still got time.

Amelia walked out of the bathroom, dressed in a long skirt and one simple blouse under a jacket. Her hair was neatly brushed and held in her typical braid. She wore no make-up, nothing to change herself. She smelled of fresh soap and a little something that was only her.

“Well, Mrs. Bradley. It seems I can’t keep you for myself any longer.”

“For today at least. We’ll have a place to stay once we get to East City, won’t we?”

He nodded, offered her his arm and they walked out of the room, a single bag holding their few things. The rest of their luggage was already on the train.

…

Back in the East – 72 hours after the wedding

…

After finishing his rounds around the city and military quarters, he found Amelia sitting in the kitchen, looking pensive. It was well past midnight and she should have been sleeping.

“Hey.” He said, hoping she was okay.

She jumped and looked over her shoulder, the shadow of a smile gracing her lips.

“Is something wrong?”

“The kitchen feels really small.” She whispered.

He walked up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She instinctively leaned back.

“How was you day?”

“Boring. What’s really wrong with you? I know this has nothing to do with the kitchen you had with your aunt, but there’s only two of us around to eat.”

As soon as he’d said it, he got worried she would talk about future and children. But Amelia shook her head.

“It’s not the kitchen. I don’t know. I felt pretty lonely today. I knew I’m supposed to be the waiting wife back at home, but I need to find some bearings and a routine. I studied the city’s maps and I might try going out tomorrow. Unless you post more soldiers at the exits.”

King’s arrival to East City had not been as secret as he’d hoped. Envy had told him going through hardships was good for rising through ranks. And he sure didn’t want his wife to become a scapegoat for his own advancement.

“You can’t ask yourself to be fully adapted to all of this all of a sudden, Amelia.”

He hadn’t exactly realized that this wasn’t the whole question here. She pushed him back and started to pace around the kitchen.

“I know…” she replied. “I know, but you hadn’t warn me that the guards posted around wouldn’t let me out.”

He raised his eyebrows at that, understanding dawning on him.

“You cannot ask me to stay caged like a…”

“This is not what I intended, but the situation is a lot worse than expected. Don’t you realize that I just don’t want you getting hurt?”

She crossed her arm over her chest and King angrily scrapping the back of his neck. He felt tired and had expected another kind of reception if she was still awake. He didn’t want to argue with her, but…

“I still can’t train you, my dear. I’ll feel safer right now if you stay put. It’s temporary,” he quickly added. The army is not popular around this town and being a reknown officer means I’m close to enemy number 1.”

“But if you react like this right now, how will it be when I’ll really be vulnerable, say, if I get pregnant or…”

He shuddered at the thought and quickly gathered her in his arms, refusing to let her finish that sentence.

“We’re not there yet, are we? So let us focus on the here and now. You’re mad because you get the feeling I’m trapping you in this apartment. And I’m not sorry, because if anything was to happen to you…”

His voice didn’t crack anywhere. He didn’t fumble. But Amelia wasn’t amused.

“So you’re going to get overbearing and order me around? Is that how it’s gonna be?”

She pushed him away for the second time and the gesture unnerved him. He had been yelled on, pushed around and exposed to many examples of civilians’ attacks on soldiers in the past 16 hours. He tried to keep it in. His status wasn’t as impressive around here. Amelia’s frustration was as justified as his.

“I’ll try not to. We need to work together.”

She seemed to soften at that, since he gave her an opening to take her own place in their marriage.

“I want to be warned the next time. And you’re excessive. Nobody here knows me. I could be anyone.”

She was, no, she might be right.

“You’re my wife, Amelia. You’re the woman I love. That warrants some kind of protection when I’m not around. And I’m sorry if that makes me overbearing and archaic.”

She smiled at that. He wasn’t entirely forgiven, but this was looking better than before.

“We can call it a truce?”

“For now…”

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is a small reference to holy lonely night, one of those engrish song from Macross 7 that just can never get out of my head, just like Never say die was litteraly one too.


	27. Adapting to us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Bradley has to be reminded he is not alone anymore.

I chose you – Chapter 27

Adapting to us

The first week wasn’t the hardest. Bradley soon realized that every day was hard. Not at the army. He had gone past the kind of bad stuff his job could throw at him. The construction effort was still stalled by the protesting population. The development sites were attacked. Peaceful protestants turned into rioting berserkers at the drop of a hat. Everyone was on their toes and the streets all over the city didn’t feel entirely safe. People were losing their job in the chaos and the crime rates went up. The army was stepping everywhere, arresting burglars, muggers and some more degenerated criminals.

The hard part was at home, with Amelia. He had given new instructions to her guards, so that she would be let outside. The guards were standing watch inside the building, so to not attract any unwanted attention. There was no point in telling everyone around here that his wife was there to be taken hostage or tortured. He was already picturing her in any of these situations, too damaged to recover if she didn’t die in his nightmares. Working at repressing the people was his job. He needed it done to keep up the pretense that he was going up the ranks. Grumman had been wounded at one leg and was trying to win a place behind a desk, before that the army got him crippled or worse yet … impotent.

Knowing she was outside at any time he wasn’t home, talking to civilians, making friends or enemies (though the second sounded preposterous even to him), that she was even joining assemblies of protestants sometimes… It drove him crazy. They had convened that she was free to act as she pleased, as long as she didn’t get herself in trouble. And King had given her a strict training schedule to make her faster if she had to run for example. He was seriously hoping for time to train her in any form of self defense. He knew she could never be like him. He didn’t want her to be. He had been conditioned for years, turned into the greatest killing machine in all Amestris. And though blood covered his hands, he would keep her alive.

He was attached beyond saving, needing her, addicted to her presence, to her laughs. Some of her quirks drove him mad, but it was worth it. To wake up next to her every two mornings was such a blessing. And sadly, there was no stability, which made home less familiar and their cohabitation sometimes awkward. He was working 24 hours a day, if not more. He could never know when he’d come back as he left in the morning, or sometimes the night.

The first week was easy, because he came home on three full nights. Soon, Amelia had to accept that she couldn’t wait for him every night. She kept cooking for more than one person, not wanting him to get to sleep on an empty stomach. Too often, she ended up giving the food to some neighbour to prevent it from spoiling. Money was not exactly a problem, everything being provided by the military, but she remained simple. It meant fitting in with the people of East City.

On the third week, King had grown accustomed to slip beside her sleeping form in the bed. She would always lean back into his arms and often, he suspected her to be lying awake in their room, counting the seconds he was away until sleep took her. Some nights, she’d turn around or moan at the feather kiss on her shoulder or the pressure on her waist. Some nights, she’d keep him awake for some payback attention. Other nights, she’d cuddle with him and it was just as fine. But there were also cold nights, where even the other’s arms weren’t enough…

On the fifth week, King managed to be home for a mere four hours. The tension was getting thicker and the riots were longer to dissipate. People were getting hurt on both sides. A military’s wagon of weapons had been stolen and every squads were on their toes. The manmade homunculus was working hard and pushing each of his men. But Father wanted a seal of blood on this side of Amestris. And on the rails of steel, the sun was throwing crimson lights. By sixth week, he hadn’t exchanged a single word with his wife in the span of 17 days. And that number was both driving him crazy and keeping him sane. She was still there in his life. She was unhurt, at least, by the frenzied protestants.

…

Sleeping was a hazardous need King wished he didn’t have. After 48 hours straight of running around the streets, helping in the development of barricades, being yelled at and therefore yelling at his subordinates… His throat was hoarse and his mind could lose its edge. He would sleep either in the barracks, a few hours, just to satisfy Irina that he could still work, or as he “attended” some meetings. He didn’t miss anything, but the toll was slowly showing. He stepped in Grumman’s office, barely managing not to trip on the threshold.

“Colonel Bradley reporting, sir.”

Grumman had crossed his arms over his head at the sound of his door opening and looked up from the piles of paper on his desk, an unkempt beard eating up his cheeks.

“King? Have you been home recently?”

The young husband blinked, the concept sounding foreign. Almost ludicrous. Who could go home when East City was in a worst state than Central during the civil war?

“I don’t see…”

“Answer the question soldier.”

The first thing that came to mind was the 21 days without hearing Amelia’s voice. He’d seen her at least once. Asleep.

“I… I don’t know.”

It had been 5 days, maybe more, but counting made his head ache.

“Don’t make the mistakes I did then and go back to your wife while she still cares.”

It felt harsh, but King saw some regret beneath the gruff tone and nodded. He certainly could take a few hours to get back home and reacquaint himself with a real bed. An hour later, he was opening the door to his apartment. No light on, but the moon rays were showing through the half-closed blinds. There was a note on the kitchen table.

_Please eat some food before sleep. Pork soup in the fridge._

_Love, Melia._

He noticed a bundle of scrapped notes in the trash can and almost face-palmed as he realized how quickly he’d gone back to his old routine. He had brought her here, in the heat of danger, just to be with her, and now…

He ate the cold soup. It was the dead of the night and he couldn’t just wake her up by turning on their oven to warm the food she’d prepared for him every other day. When he walked into their room, he realized he hadn’t showered in two days, but was too tired to care. She seemed tensed in her sleep and he stayed on his side of the bed, feeling rejected as he looked at her, curled up on herself. The sound of her breathing lulled him to sleep.

Until the morning came and he was alone in their bed. Awareness was slow to come, the fog not leaving him until he heard Amelia humming in the kitchen. His eye snapped opened. Why was she already up? He wanted to wake with her, not…

As he got up, his shirt still half buttoned, he noticed the hour on the clock. It was either incredibly early, which was doubtful since the sun was at his zenith. So he might be incredibly late at work, for the first time of his life. His first thoughts went to the army. The people that couldn’t be organized without him. The new precautions they were supposed to develop and put in place and supervise. The armed repression that was slowly being accepted. He grabbed a clean uniform and barged out of the room, trying to dress himself properly while half-walking half-running.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Hello to you too, stranger.” Amelia retorted, not looking over her shoulder as she cooked something on the oven. Her voice was like ice in his ears and his priorities shifted all at once.

Grumman’s warning was back to his sensible mind. He had chosen her. But he could also lose her, all on his own, without the intervention from any homunculus.

“I… I didn’t mean that.”

“I know. I also happen to know that you needed that sleep. I called your base and told them you needed a day off.”

“You… what?!”

“You better not yell at me, mister Bradley! I don’t hear anything from you for days and have to coerce my own bodyguards into telling me what you’re up to and… Darn you and your army, King! I’m not listening to any complaints or crazy overbearing demands.”

She hadn’t looked at him yet and her voice was controlled, although he saw her shoulders quivering slightly. His throat tightened. Were there words to fix this? Had it been too long already?

“Amelia…”

“If at least you wrote to me sometimes, this wouldn’t feel so different than before.” She observed.

 He opened his mouth to say something, but she turned around, her eyes cold and her lips thinly drawn together.

“Go take a shower. I have some shopping to do. The dinner should be ready in fifteen, so don’t take too long and be sure not to let the apartment catch on fire.”

“I…”

“If you step out of this building before I’m back, I’ll know, believe me. So be a good boy and take better care of yourself.”

She didn’t mention what she wanted, or that she wanted him to take better care of her. Of them. The word “us” was on his lips, he wanted to comfort her, but there was something brutal in her movements, something not Amelia. She was hurt. In a different way than when her parents died. The door softly closed shut behind her and King stood there, wondering if he’d see her smile at all today. He could have called the army and check if she really took the liberties she’d proclaimed. But he was tired and felt awful. He put his brain on automatic and repeated himself simple words. Like shower, food and bed. He followed the order, adding cleaning the dishes to the list.

This was some kind of revenge. She wanted him to wait on her, like she always did. He tamed his anger and accepted the challenge. And then he started counting the hours. The minutes. Time seemed to slow down. The radio chanted garbage in his ears and he couldn’t focus on the books, having to live with the idea Amelia could be anywhere. That anything could be happening to her.

Before that they got married, when they were away from each other, he was also worried, but in a different way, like a fear at the back of his mind. Amelia would be okay until he saw her again. He had been the only one bringing the danger to her, she wasn’t surrounded by it. Now, the danger was bound to her, with the ring on her finger and the house he’d given her and his title, not to mention his unorthodox family. His paranoia about her wellbeing had grown and reached a peak that made it unbearable, until he covered himself in enough work so he’d not have the time to think about his fear. And that made the fear true. When Amelia walked back in their apartment, he was pacing the living room like a caged lion. He spotted a brief smirk on her face, the flash of her teeth. And though it was at his expense, his heart still soared beneath the wrath.

“You received some mail from Central.” She said matter-of-factly.

That made no sense. His only friend still alive was Grumman and…

“Is… Gold tooth a surname or something?” she wondered, turning the envelop between her fingers. Her grocery bags were on the table and the picture could have remained idyllic and casual, if not for the awful shiver he had at the idea his “doctor” was sending him news.

He snatched the envelop from her hands and ripped it open. It was a large bundle of sheets, with test results and other stuff. He resumed pacing, rapidly going through the papers. He couldn’t read every word. Some part of those tests scared him. He wasn’t ready to know. Wasn’t ready to learn if his body was entirely compatible with Amelia’s. He was hurting her in so many different ways. He shoved the papers in the only drawer that could be locked, back in their room, all the while ignoring Amelia’s questions.

“Would you mind talking to me? What’s wrong about that letter?”

“It’s not important,” he grumbled as he walked back into the main room.

“King…!” she said warningly.

“I said that it was NOT important!” he roared back, angered by all the waiting he’d been through and the fact she was still poking in his business.

Amelia’s eyes filled up with tears, but she held her chin high and he realized he had crossed another line.

“Fine. Fine then. I don’t know what I was expecting. To have you gone for weeks and pretend as if nothing had happened. I guess how I feel isn’t important either.”

She dried her tears and flinched as he reached for her, most of his anger gone, replaced with agonizing shame.

“I didn’t mean that. To yell or to be gone for so long…”

“Well, don’t leave me in the dark anymore and make sure you do what you mean from now on. My aunt said she still has work for me back home if I want out.”

He shook his head, his shoulders dropping a bit.

“I know I’ve been stupid for the past three weeks. I was missing you a bit more every day but fighting against civilians and seeing you right afterwards… it felt wrong.”

“Don’t you feel safe around me? At least, you used to, and all the more reason to get back home, whatever horrible things you have to face.”

“But how safe are you around me? You want to see me covered in my enemies’ blood again?”

“I just want to see you, dammit! They usually say that this is for the better and the worst of our lives.”

Her tears came back and he couldn’t confront her anymore. There was no excuse except the wrath filling up his blood and thoughts. He was still in control, always, always in control but the fear of lashing out at her, of losing it was still there, with his other fears. He wrapped his arms around her, despite her initial stiffness at the contact.

“How long has it been since I’ve just hold you?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Her sobs were too strong for her voice to come out. When she managed a few words, he felt the first signs of relief in his tortured heart.

“I’ve missed you, Brad.”

He didn’t apologize right out. Not entirely. She said it wouldn’t mean anything if he was to repeat the same mistake in the following months. So instead, they tried to disassemble their previous routine. They created rules. She left him notes whenever she missed him and he left some too, when he wasn’t calling to warn her from being late. The phone ringing wasn’t a bad omen anymore. It actually became something that annoyed her, but she’d rather hear his voice through the phone then not hear from him at all.

_“Since no one ever called me here, the first time it rang, I was sure some military would tell me you were dead. It ended up being publicity, but I couldn’t help but think the only other reason would be…”_

They hadn’t shared their personal fears at first. It didn’t seem important. He was too stressed and she was too lonely to add anything over the lot. But as Amelia said over and over, they were a couple, a pair and a family. It meant they could and should confide in each other. King realized that every new day was hard. Their relationship was getting stronger, but it was as fragile as human life itself and any mistake could mean pain or doubt, which walked hand in hand as it seemed. Thankfully, it was mostly worth it.

…

The news on the radio weren’t looking too good. The construction grounds were turning into a battlefield. It had been two days since Mrs. Bradley dared to go out. There had been a few explosions on the edge of East City. Soldiers were being called in reinforcement from Central and Irina had been switched from King’s squad, having started a relationship with Baron. It was the only good news as of late.

…

Amelia was surprised to hear the door handle moving around 6 pm. Although King tried his best coming back home as early as possible, it was rarely before 8. She was currently working on patching back her favorite skirt and kept at her work, until she heard his first step in their apartment. One of his feet was dragging. She was so aware of him, as if she needed to register everything she could from the little time they had together, she could tell with one step. Bradley had barely had the time to close the door behind him that she was on him.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked him instead of a greeting.

“I’m home, darling.”

His voice was a notch weaker than usual.

“You’re limping, Brad.”

He sighed, leaning his waist against the kitchen counter, his shoulders dropping. She noticed how he kept the weight on his left leg. He had given her many homework as a part of her future training and the main one was to observe every details around her. She was getting a little too good at reading him.

“I might… have been shot.”

His anger was clear beneath the shame that warmed his cheeks. King wasn’t used to failure, and getting hurt was failing.

“Good lord! Are you alright?”

He shrugged.

“It grazed me, Melia, you know I usually dodge bullets. A few muscles were torn, it needed a few stitches. If I don’t limp, it’s gonna tear.”

He sounded annoyed, but Amelia couldn’t help but wonder how he could have been shot. Usually, the rioters were using Molotov cocktails or other improvised weapons. Never guns.

“I can’t tell you more right now, I swear.”

Civilians had gotten their hands on another shipment of weapons. King knew it was part of the homunculi plan. Although the crest of blood was supposed to be farther to the border, Father didn’t mind them to draw a straight line along the rails.

“So the only reason for you to get back home earlier is to get hurt?”

“And I’m still the bad guy? Seriously?!”

She smiled, a mischievous twinkle in her green eyes.

“Aren’t you working for them actually?”

She’d never voiced her thoughts about the army, or well, the guys pulling his strings, so bluntly before. It hurt more than expected.

“You’re supposed to be on my side. Have you been to some rally again?” he snapped, getting back to his feet and making sure the door was locked.

King had developed a routine whenever he was riled up, which was to check the whole apartment for danger. She followed him, observing how tense he looked.

“We both know what will happen when our trains reach the borders on the east side. We’ll have another war on our hands. Someone wants this country to expand and…”

“That’s enough now!” he snapped at her, turning around to point an imperious finger at her. “Whatever silly notions the people of this town or your own deductions gave you, you shouldn’t…”

“Is this about the shadows again?”

He looked up to the ceiling, feeling his anger boiling. Amelia took a doubtful tone whenever she mentioned the shadows. It was one thing he’d warned her about that she had trouble believing. It might be a defensive mechanism to resist the fact so many monsters already existed in her world now. Maybe that Pride was too much for her.

“There’s a limit to what they’ll permit and you know it. I want… I need you safe.”

“There’s nowhere safe Bradley. I don’t like it and you don’t have to like it, but it’s fine, I don’t think about it everyday. But I need to be able to speak my mind.”

He sighed.

“So I’m part of the bad guys?”

“In a certain way. But let’s drop it for today. You shouldn’t stand on that leg. Did you get a leave of absence?”

He had two days. She suggested to offer him a massage to apologize for her accusations and he gave in, glad she wouldn’t insist. He might have been able to face her questions, if it wasn’t for all the other things on his mind. As she undid the knocks in his neck, he shivered, trying to focus on her voice. She told him of her last two days cramped up in the house. Being lonely wasn’t good for Amelia. It gave her too much time to think about all the implications beneath the fact the army was controlled from the inside by superhuman monsters.

“When things calm down with the construction, will you have real time off?”

“I hope so.”

Although he also hoped for a promotion…

“We could talk about projects. Like having a family.”

He dreaded that idea. The setting, the potential wars, the homunculi, everything made it impossible. He had no idea how a family was supposed to work. She would be even more vulnerable. And she would devote her attention to someone else than him. If any spawn of his could be normal. He remembered the letter still locked in his drawer and clenched his right fist. He still had to read its entirety.

“You’re still considering it?! If we were to have a child, any child and if I get any higher in the ranks, that kid would be in constant danger.”

“Anyone is always in danger on this planet. It’s a part of life.” She added, her hands slipping down his chest as she whispered in his ears.

His blood rushed to the wrong places but the pain in his leg ran up his spine, putting a line to any amorous activities.

“Well, even if I was convinced, I’m in no shape to get you pregnant tonight.” He groaned.

“Oh come on! Do you have to talk about it like that?”

“What’s so wrong with it?”

She slapped him on the head, walking out of the living room.

“Amelia?!”

“To think I was ready to suggest I’d do all the hard work.”

He blushed at the idea, wondering if he’d ever get used to her teasing. She could be so bashful sometimes…

“It’s not like I got hurt willingly you know.”

“Were you trying to save Baron this time too?”

His anger came back in full force. Baron hadn’t been in trouble this time. So did that mean he was getting soft? No way, he was at the top of his form and had proved invaluable to their efforts in repressing the civilians without causing too much harm on their side.

“Can you dodge thirty bullets?” he asked.

“Do you want a stupid answer to your stupid question?”

There was only one way of ending this without anything bad for his health.

“I love you.”

“Me too, darling.”

From then on, Amelia was careful not to mention _them_ again. Or the possibility of starting a family so she would feel less lonely back home. King wondered about the paper waiting in their room. The tests’ results. And although he hated the idea, he resigned himself to read it on the next morning. Which turned out to be next week and next month, until he couldn’t postpone it anymore and withstand his own painful conscience at the same time.

He read it in the morning, after Amelia had gotten up, not wanting her around him if the news was bad. And it was worse than he expected. Gold tooth had no delicacy when he diagnosed someone. Under a lot of diagrams and complicated numbers, the verdict waited, clear as day. King felt indifferent at first, as if he couldn’t process the words

_Subject 12 is infertile. This could either be a defect from birth or a result of the stone injection, but it’s impossible to test. The subjects weren’t placed in any situation where fertility could be a problem before the final processing. Look at me, dawdling. I have far better things to supervise. My personal hypothesis is that a man made human couldn’t possibly spawn itself. It’s against nature. But subject 12 can be happy about one thing. He doesn’t have to worry about how many times he…_

The crude words that followed elicited an anger that was beyond words and reasons. Brad crumpled the paper between his finger, trying not to think too much of it. But a few things remained clear. _Infertile_. **Defect**. Against nature. A monster. A darn aberration.

He stood upright as his own mind crumbled on itself a few seconds. He hadn’t expected himself to care about it. In another life, he’d be happy.

“Brad, dear, breakfast is ready!” Amelia called out for him.

He swallowed the lump in his throat at the idea of telling her… Things were just getting better between them. Her smile was back and this… His first idea was to run, but King forced himself to think straight. He wasn’t that kind of man. He wouldn’t be destroyed by such a news.

But was he still even a man, being defective like that?

To be continued…


	28. Broken Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King has to tell a truth he hasn't really had time to digest himself.

I chose you

Chapter 28 - Broken resolve

Defective. Infertile.

_They made me wrong._

He walked up to the kitchen, finding it hard not to drag his feet. A single word shouldn’t affect him that much, but the wrath wasn’t after the right things. He was angry at himself. Angry at Gold tooth. Angry to feel suddenly inadequate for something that should never have mattered. But he could tell that it mattered to her.

“Ame…”

“I’ve got an errand to run.” She cut him off, already opening the door. “You’re off to work, aren’t you?”

He blinked, taken aback. Was she really leaving now?

“I…”

“You’re still half asleep, aren’t you? You got home so late yesterday. Eat and grab some rest. I’ll be back in an hour.”

The door locked behind her and King wondered if he could go work in his current state of mind. But that would mean running from her. Postponing again. And he was afraid waiting would make it worst. He swallowed down some bacon and phoned Grumman. It took time to reach his friend and he wouldn’t explain his absence to anyone else. He wasn’t exactly planning on explaining himself anyway.

“I need the day off.”

“King, we’re up to our…”

“I’m not asking. There’s… Put Butcher in charge. Put Baron in charge if you need to.”

“Is everything alright with you, man?”

“I don’t know.” was his honest answer.

Grumman seemed ready to insist, but he hang up. He was furious now. He didn’t want to confide to his friend. Not now. Surely never. Not about this. He finished breakfast and started pacing around the room. The clock ticked every minute slowly. His thoughts were reminding him of every occasion Amelia had talked about starting a family. He tried to count them. Less than ten but more than five. He started analyzing his memories, hoping he remembered something in her eyes, in her face that could tell him she didn’t care that much about the possibility. But he remembered how she’d looked after Eli’s daughter. How she cared for Roy. The fact even Juliett could tell she was good with kids.

_They made me wrong._

The thought hurt, but it was going on and on in his head. Monster. Half human. 12. Defect. He went back to their room. Flattened the paper and reread it, as if his mind had played tricks on him. But the word was still there. Almost compatible, but not efficient. Almost human, but one of his eyes showing the truth beneath the mask. The monster inside. He needed to stop thinking, to stop torturing himself.

When Amelia walked back in their apartment, he was sharpening one of his blades.

“Hello there. Still home?” she asked, clearly surprised.

“Took a day.” He replied.

He sheathed the sword and found his wife looking at him with puzzled eyes.

“We need to talk.” He heard himself say.

It sounded wrong. He didn’t read romance novels or went to bad theatres, but he could tell that it sounded bad.

“Okay.”

She walked up to him and he flinched away, trying to hide it by heading to the living room, keeping his distances from her. He was afraid he’d lose all countenance if she touched him.

“You’d better sit down.” He warned her, keeping his voice even.

“Good lord, King. Is something wrong?”

_Me._

He held it in. His green eye was dark and she sat down on their couch, right in front of him, apprehensively staring at him. He stood behind his favorite chair, looking for the right words. Those that hurt less. Or maybe just a way to start. He was scared for many different reasons. The main one was the fact she might decide to finally give up on him.

“You remember the letter I had from Central?”

She frowned.

“The one that wasn’t important?”

He closed his eyes, feeling the underlying fear in her voice.

“Amelia…”

“Are you sick?”

He blinked and shook his head. She forgot to breathe an instant, before to ask for the next most obvious question in her mind.

“What’s wrong then? Are you… you’re not dying, are you?”

He grabbed the chair’s back, his shoulders sagging.

“No. No, but I’m… broken.”

Her eyes widened, filled with worries and questions. He tried to keep his breathing calm. To focus on her face, not on the words in his head. Not on his irrational fears.

“Brad…”

“They said I’m infertile.”

Amelia jumped slightly. His voice had turned darker than his eye.

“That’s…”

“They can’t tell if I was before the stone or not.”

“You’re not broken. You’re…”

She was at a loss of word; he could tell she had trouble adjusting to the idea. She had never questioned, never wondered… Himself hadn’t thought he could have been changed this much, but the stone had been trying to destroy him after all.

“I can’t give you a family, Melia. The only damn thing you dare to ask of me, I can’t…”

His voice broke a little and he gripped the chair’s back harder between his fingers.

“You think I care about…?”

“Take time to let it sink in before to say things that aren’t true. You want kids. At least one. Any moron could give you one and…”

He was so angry, he couldn’t hold everything in. His hands tore through the green fabric. His shoulders heaved slightly. He wanted to punch a wall. He wanted to get rid of this terrible idea she was going to turn her back on him for something so petty. He had never promised a family when he’d asked for her hand. But he hadn’t thought then… hadn’t doubt he could offer if he ever felt ludicrous enough to indulge her.

“I don’t want anyone’s…”

He couldn’t listen to her voice trying to comfort him.

“I know that! I know and I’ll fail you because they made me wrong. Or they broke something with their damn stone and…”

His throat felt too tight. He hadn’t lost her before but surely now. Wasn’t that the ultimate test? Wasn’t that a good reason for divorce? He was flawed merchandise. Defective. She got up, her cheeks bright red from anger. Angry Amelia he could face. But she wasn’t angry at the news he was giving. Angrier at the way he was taking it. At the evident distrust he must feel for her to think she’d walk away on him for something he didn’t control. And since it hurt, she tried to hurt him back.

“Shouldn’t you be happy, Brad? You didn’t want kids in the first place and now you got the perfect excuse.”

She regretted the words as soon as they were out but it was too late. The fragile mask he was wearing crumbled.

“What?!”

His face was distorted by rage, but after the initial outburst, his features softened. Pain took over the anger. He looked younger, almost lost. And she heard the words ringing in her mind, like an apology that no one should ever bear. _They made me wrong._

“You… I wanted to make you happy.” He told her. “I’d agreed eventually. Now I don’t… There’s not even a choice left to make.”

He was fighting against the pain, the fears. He was taking this a lot more seriously than she’d expected him. And she felt like crying, because she’d had to bury another dream, but she couldn’t cry now. Not when he looked ready to crack.

“You’re not broken.” She told him, almost fiercely, walking up to him, reaching out for him.

King wanted to collect his thoughts and shatter every last one of them. He wanted to control the shaking in his limbs, the awful need to collapse. A comforting Amelia meant he could cry and he shouldn’t be crying. She was the victim here. He was just some damaged tool. A puppet without rights. They’d broken his past, controlled his present and doomed his future. Hadn’t he paid enough already? No mother, no love, no care, all this sweat and blood and now…

“Defective.” He supplied her.

“You’re perfect, King.”

The sob almost got out of his throat and he covered his eyepatch with his hand, feeling his scarred eye throbbing madly.

“Be angry at me. Get mad, but don’t…”

It had always been his only answer at everything they threw at him. It was his homunculus name. It was the only thing keeping him upright.

“This isn’t your fault.” Amelia whispered.

“Please, just be angry.”

He saw the tears on her cheeks. The loss in her eyes. The quiver in her lips that tried to smile at him with that tenderness he didn’t owe. Her arms were open and he backed away, knowing her touch would be enough to shatter him. She backed him against the wall, removing the hand that hid the eyepatch, removing the patch itself and raising herself to her toes.

“This wasn’t and will never be your fault, Brad.”

Her hands cupped his face. He forgot himself, leaning in for a hug, letting her kiss him. Her tears tasted salty. He was hurting her again, just by being what he was. She felt warm, warm and the sobs took over as the words kept running in his head. He was made wrong. He was made so, so wrong.

“I’m… sorry.”

“I’m sorry too, King. But it’s not… our fault.”

He held her back, at first meaning to push her gentle hands away, meaning to break free of her embrace, to regain control, to stay the cold, strong King. But instead he held her to him and let the pain take over. He wanted to howl, he wanted to hide. His face found her neck, her hair. She leaned on him and he realized she could crumble too. Seeing him like this. Absorbing the reality of this news. She sobbed with him, her words not coherent anymore. They slid against the wall and remained entangled in each other, desperate for comfort. When the worst was over, at least so he thought, King dared to push himself up, to look into her eyes. What he saw hurt and healed all at the same time.

“I love you for you, Brad.”

He remembered the question he had asked her once. What was there to love? It had never felt more accurate. But even with her red and puffy eyes, even with her running nose, she was beautiful and she was clinging to him. She covered his tattooed eye with her fingers. Covered the human one too. Gave him a peck on the mouth. Clumsily kissed both eyelids. He thought he knew what she was trying to do. Distract him. Remind him they had faced worse. But he was so open, it hurt just to be with her. He shivered as she sighed against his neck.

“Make love to me.” She pleaded.

That hit too close to home, he almost gasped as thought the pain was physical.

“No. No, no, no, no, not now.”

He wanted to cry again.

“But I still want you.” She retorted. “Fertile or not.”

The tears fell down once more, from both his eyes, and she apologized until he was apologizing too. This time, they waited longer and remained silent when their tears dried, Amelia was afraid she had gone too far. King felt broken. And she wanted to mend him now, because she needed him whole and strong to stand strong herself.

“I won’t leave you.” She whispered against his chest.

He hated himself for being scared. Hated her for reading him like an open book. He had to get over this. He had gotten over being bitten by rabid men, burned, destructed and reconstructed, being slashed and trashed and beaten, over seeing her bloody, losing one of his only friends and facing things like Pride. What was some potential birth defect next to that? But the shakings were threatening to take over him, because he was vulnerable in her arms, more than he’d ever felt.

“I wouldn’t blame you. But if you stay, I can make it worth your time.” He tried to sound confident despite his raw throat that turned his voice weaker.

He felt too open still, but he had to hold out until the first shock died down. He had to prove her he was still a man even if he cried and even if he couldn’t give her the children she’d wanted. So when she stroked his hair, he stole her lips for a kiss without restraint. He held her with trembling arms. Kissed her senseless, because his feelings didn’t make sense anymore.

How could he want to corrupt an innocent live after what had been done to him? How could he want to be a father when he had no idea what it meant? He’d never thought of it. He was made to be a ruler. But a father could rule too. Although they protected and he was a killer, pretending to protect only to raise through the ranks. Pretended for everyone but for her. He had failed his friends. He could give her pleasure and bliss, but he couldn’t… Create life. What alchemy desperately tried to emulate and humans could without an afterthought. It felt like a drag down. As if he wasn’t any better than the other homunculi, or than father. What should have made him different made him less. And although he hadn’t managed to think about all that already, it nurtured the pain, deep inside.

He felt raw when he gathered her in his arms. Raw like a new-born when she kissed his jaw and neck and went soft beneath his hands.

The lump in his throat was swallowed and felt like a stone in his stomach. The shakings were shared and suddenly good and back to feeling wrong. She cried against his chest when she realized how lost he was. She covered the oroborous eye an instant. Pulled on his hair to have him kissing her again. Tried being sweet and hard all in turns. Her nails dug marks in his skin, to bring him back to himself, to them. She was warm glass against his skin. He was afraid she could break if he held too tight or pushed too hard. And that was only because he was still so close to breaking himself.

After love, she snuggled close to him, listening to his breathing that finally calmed down. She kissed the hand holding her, one rough knuckle at a time. Suggested dinner.

“I’d rather stay like this.” He admitted, holding her closer.

She agreed with a cute whine and he was smiling once more. The tests sheets had been shoved beneath the bed and he was slowly realizing that he could stop turning those words around in his head. The words didn’t define him. The words couldn’t reach him as long as she backed him up like she did.

“How long has it been since we got married?” he asked her after a few minutes.

“Seven… maybe eight months?”

Not even a year and she was still there, despite the many mistakes he’d already done. She tried counting on her fingers but he tickled her before she could reach an assured answer.

“King! We can’t spend all day in bed.”

“Is that a challenge?” he retorted, almost sounding playful.

The following weeks weren’t easier than the others. Bradley simply tried not to think too much about his newly discovered handicap and Amelia made sure not to give any fuel to that fire. But some night, if he showed up unannounced, he might find her lost in deep thoughts. He never asked what was on her mind. He had reacted so strongly when he gave her the news the first time, he was afraid of going back there.

The conflicts were slowly getting under control. People got killed left and right. Butcher was hurt and Baron was captured by enraged civils. Grumman gave harsher orders, but King knew things could get even more out of hands. So he grabbed Eli and convinced him that they had done enough damage control. Under the cover of the night, King Bradley attacked a rebel camp, threatening their chief before dawn, while an alchemist recruited in secrecy was creating the new rails. By next morning, the rail road was far enough from the city to convince rebels that their efforts had been in vain. Baron was safely given back in exchange for the rebel’s commander. And while the rail road kept being developed, going further east, Grumman and Bradley worked like madmen to restore the city to what it used to be.

Over the weeks, both men had taken a habit of sharing a drink after a long, tedious day of work. King emptied his second glass, welcoming the numb sensation in his sore limbs when Grumman asked him:

“How is everything going with your wife, Brad? Haven’t heard from her in a while. No King junior in the making yet?”

King choked on the beer, which only got Eli laughing, until he saw the seriousness in the younger soldier’s eyes.

“Did I say something wrong? You know, it’s…”

Bradley could have lied but Grumman was a trusted friend. Maybe the only one he still had and the guy had confided in him over many things before. And maybe telling the news to someone else without breaking down like last time would mean he was finally over it.

“There won’t be any junior.” He interrupted him. “We… _I_ can’t… Birth defect or something.”

Eli’s blue eyes widened at first and his mouth hung open an instant.

“Oh… That’s… that’s rough. How long have you…?”

“Learned it a few months ago.”

Grumman seemed deep in thought before to clap his hand over the table.

“Damn, that was your reason for the day off?”

He looked ready to scold him and King threw him a dark look.

 “I’d rather this stay between us, okay? I don’t want sympathy or…”

“You’ll get no sympathy from me, man. Still happily married after that, and to a beauty like Amelia?! Ha! As if I’d pity you! You don’t have piles of files waiting for you at home!”

Bradley was grateful, although he’d never say it. They resumed drinking and making fun of recruits and civilians alike. Eli warned him as they walked out the bar that Central seemed ready to fall back to chaos.

“They’ll call you back before you know it, I swear. The search for alchemists has never been this intense.”

King wondered if it could be put back under control. Alchemists had always been given free reigns in their society as long as they didn’t cause trouble. But now the society feared them and to reverse it…

His walk back home was filled with reflections and he had a plan half cooked up as he reached his door. Amelia’s guards gave him a salute before to get back to their home while he walked up the stairs. It was almost midnight and the apartment was dark as he entered. He eyed the shadows warily and silently reached the bedroom. His wife was lying in their bed, her brown hair covering the pillows, arms extended on either side, the covers kicked at her feet, entirely surrendered to sleep. The picture warmed his heart and he swiftly switched clothes for light pajamas so he could join her. Since she took all the space, he carefully climbed on the mattress, positioning himself above her, stroking her waist and ribcage with one hand as he leaned down to kiss her neck. Her night robe was light, the straps barely hanging to her shoulders and had moved up her legs. She shivered from the feel of his beard against her skin but didn’t give any sign of waking up.

He almost wished she did wake up, but gently snuggled next to her and resigned himself to sleep. Until her peaceful slumber turned to a nightmare that had been hunting her recently. An elbow in his ribs and he was looking up in alarm, Amelia tossing and whimpering in her sleep.

“Give him back. Dad!”

King gently shook her awake, hating the guilty feeling in his guts. Her eyes opened, quickly flooding with tears.

“You’re home?” she asked once the tears subdued and most of her fear was gone.

“I’m home.” He acknowledged, half a smile growing on his face.

“Are you okay? You didn’t get hurt? I mean you’re all there, you’re alive?”

The nightmares had started a few weeks ago. Bradley knew he wasn’t always there to hold her through the worse nights and resented his job for it. But somehow, he was comforted to see her getting as fragile as he had been. Knowing he could hold her together and ground her. She made him human, _not_ wrong.

“I’m all there.” He told her.

She stubbornly pulled off his clothes, needing to verify firsthand and he obliged her, despite his fatigue. She rarely showed how scared she was to lose him and although he despised the fact she judged him potentially weak, he knew it was only fair. He was still an overbearing oaf every now and then. He didn’t get any sleep that night.

In the morning, the official news came. He was called back to Central. They would be moving in a week. Amelia was shocked and said there was too little time. King simply wondered how bad the situation could be, since Envy had been the messenger, daring to knock at his apartment door. His homunculi brothers and sister had laid low lately. He decided it was time to keep his promise and get to the practical part of Amelia’s training. It might even reduce the frequency of her nightmares.

…

 “Like this?”

She repeated the defense motion he was trying to teach her, her arms not raised enough. He adjusted her pause, drawing on all the patience he could muster. He was a lot nicer to her than to recruits and she wasn’t exactly as painfully slow to learn as some soldiers he’d trained. But she had a lot of catching up to do.

“This will really work to push away an attack?”

“Maybe what you need is practical work.”

Without further warning, he lunged for her. She gasped but managed to evade him.

“You weren’t serious, were you?”

“I can’t really go serious on you,” he countered matter-of-factly.

Wrong choice of words. Her eyes hardening was his only warning. Amelia grabbed his wrist and tried an arm-lock he’d taught her before. He hadn’t been prepared at all. He let his old training kick in, making sure to calculate every move. Escaping her hold first, twisting himself around to sweep the air beneath her legs and get her to fall on her back.

“That’s dirty.” She whispered, catching back her breath.

“When you defend yourself, there’s no dirty trick.” He told her, giving her time to recuperate.

Amelia got back on her feet after rolling on the kitchen floor, putting distance between them. She looked quite into this now. After a little while of staring at each other, he charged her, quick for a human but not for him. She deflected his fist with the protective move and rushed in the space between his arms, puzzling him at first. There was no way she could… A kick in his nether regions took away his voice, leaving him breathless, and shocked, the pain ringing up to his ears. He hadn’t been hit like that since his potential furher school’s days. But it got the effect Amelia was aiming for. His next attack wasn’t reflected at all. And he didn’t hold back, spinning her around, gripping both of her arms and pinning her to the nearest wall. Her head hit the wood a little stronger than intended and her moan of pain was enough to get him back to reality. Had she just tried to get him to fight her at his full strength?

“I’m sorry…” she sighed against the wall.

“I guess… you’re learning.” He rasped. His voice was weaker than usual and his breath wasn’t entirely back.

“Now, do we stay like this, or do you teach me how to get out of this kind of lock?”

“You already know. And I’d rather keep… my balls intact.”

“There must another way…”

She struggled and wriggled in his hold. Pushed against the wall with one leg, to get him unbalanced, but he held his ground.

“Do you want to hurt me that bad, Melia?”

“No… Maybe a little before but… You’re so stronger than I could ever be.” She angrily snapped.

She managed to use both her legs to push against the wall, although her arms must felt as if they were breaking at this point and he let go of her, sending them both tumbling to the floor. She ended up sitting on him, and hesitated an instant before to straddle his hips and grab a hold of his arms, pushing them on either side of his head. She was looking for her breath and an instant, he thought the training was over. That she’d just kiss him an apology for her dirty trick and that their second training session could end up in the bedroom. But she surprised him again.

“How do you free yourself now, Brad?” she asked him playfully.

He smirked, rolling his shoulders beneath her weight. He just had to free his hands and…

“I’m still stronger than y…”

Her face fell and he wondered if she was hurt.

“You don’t have to rub it in,” she sighed. “And I’m pretty sure that if I knock the wind out of you, I could keep you down longer.”

“This is not a competition. You wanted me to train you. If I go easy on you and you get hurt out there taking an opponent that’s too much…”

She sat more firmly on his stomach, trying to force her weight on him. When he squirmed his legs, she raised herself and pushed her knee in his solar plexus, effectively freezing him in place. He wasn’t sure what she expected, or why she looked so serious, until she admitted what was on her mind:

 “Don’t look down on me, King. We’re both human. I might need to play dirty, but I must be able to defeat you, even if you get half serious. Otherwise, there would be no point in training me. If I can’t fight _them_ …”

Bradley felt his heart missing a beat. She wanted to train so she could be able to face homunculi?!

“I don’t want you fighting… You shouldn’t…”

“King, please, we must be honest to each other.”

She pulled on his collar and he slowly sat up, with Amelia still sitting in his lap, keeping a grip on his collar until his forehead met hers. She undid the eyepatch and he felt something breaking inside him as she shivered against him.

“I know you won’t settle for this, Brad. Taking orders your entire life. I know you. You’re planning something. And when the time comes, I need to be a part of it.”

Her lips were brushing against his at each of her words, her voice so low that no spy could possibly hear her. She was so close but he felt a strange mix of desire and pain. She remembered the half promise he had started back when they both lied in the snow, over a year ago. A world where things would be different. A world where he would defy them.

“Why don’t we start with smaller objectives for your training?”

He cut off her potential protest with a fleeting kiss that turned deeper than expected. When he finally pulled back, she looked torn, knowing how difficult she was making this for him. He had hesitated a long time before accepting to train her.

“You can’t keep me on the side. I might never get as strong as…”

“At first you wanted to train to face human danger. How far will this go if I encourage you?”

She shook her head in surrender.

“This doesn’t feel like me. And I know this doesn’t feel entirely right. But I want to be stronger. So I can hold my ground in something else than words.”

He wondered if the fact she couldn’t be a mother had any influence in this recent development.

“I’ll train you more seriously if that’s what you want. But you must be realistic. You are not going to be a soldier. Or a vigilante. Or whatever you have in mind.”

“Brad, I’m not saying I’ll be roaming the streets chasing shady people. I just don’t want to depend on bodyguards or to have you as worried as you were when we started living here. I know Central isn’t right.”

“If you’re that serious, you’ll need some kind of weapon.”

She didn’t look as put off as when he’d suggested of her learning how to handle guns. Amelia was hardening herself. And he wasn’t sure if he liked that. But Envy had show up on their doorstep. And he’d rather know she could put up a fight if the need arose, although he’d never forgive himself if it did.

To be continued…


	29. Mending Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King make plans and is challenged, but not only in his emotions for once.

Central looked bright and cheery when they got off the train. It felt fake, but didn’t prevent the couple from enjoying a blue, cloudless sky. King had make arrangements to rent an apartment and had managed to acquire half a day off to visit places with his wife, decide on one and get back to work. They went through three different options in two mere hours and managed a mutual decision in record time, which meant they could share a meal at some restaurant. Amelia warned him that they should visit her aunt as soon as possible. She was clearly dying to see the hotel she had worked in for so many years. He argued that she could meet Ella Corsaire alone, but King walked to the army headquarters with the deep conviction he had to pay a visit to his aunt-in-law or would be force to face Mrs. Bradley’s wrath. He might have allowed himself some wallowing if the Furher hadn’t summoned him right on his arrival.

King was introduced in the council room, where he reported his work in East City. And was informed of the few self-formed group of alchemist’s chasers around Central.

“Activists. Running their own laws. I know one alchemist did unspeakable things in our street. And I remember asking you to stop him as fast as possible.”

The young colonel noticed a chuckle in his back and wondered which general he would have to kill off once he’d be standing right in the Fuhrer’s place.

“I caught him. Two victims later, but I caught him.”

“More by chance than anything. But I’m not blaming you. In fact, I was wondering if you had an idea for the crisis we have on our hands. Whenever you take initiative, prolonged conflicts seem to come to a halt.”

“You can’t be serious, president!” a general warned, getting up from his seat so quickly that his chair hit the floor.

“He’s still a colonel…” another one observed.

King stood unaffected and looking only at the Fuhrer, who was shaking his head, looking a much older than he did the last time he’d seen him.

“He should be a general-brigadier at the very least and we all know it. I want your opinion on this, because I’ve heard that whenever you plan something, it turns your way. And we need things to turn our way right now.”

It felt a little too easy, but King understood what the Furher was doing. He was testing his generals while testing him too.

“Since the civil war, we’ve gotten a lot more lenient with Central people. When we related to the public the fact the serial rapist was an alchemist conducting abominable research, we sustained the people in chasing down alchemists. But although the chase was inhuman, stopping it needed an explanation that wasn’t given to anyone. The citizens need to feel safe again. To know that it isn’t anyone that can be an alchemist in this country. We have accepted volunteer enrollment as state alchemist for now and one percent of the army is made of those. But with every new conflict, it’s getting clearer that we could use more soldiers with their capabilities.” King started.

 _Or more of them like me, but the other potential fuhrer aren’t exactly up to socializing,_ he thought to himself.

The generals looked restless behind him, but the Furher sat back in his chair, pulling at his beard, deep in thought.

“Go on, Colonel Bradley.”

“I think the hunt should be turned into a mandatory enrollment. Anyone studying alchemy would be registered and accounted by the army, so we know and follow their studies, to prevent incidents like our serial rapist. Moreover, the alchemists would be highly recommended to undergo the state alchemist exam, and thus being entirely bound to us. In the span of a few years, the exam would be made obligatory.”

“That’s madness. We shouldn’t give power to…”

“Hendrick, I’d rather you keep your negative attitude to yourself. Bradley has a point and his plan wouldn’t be that hard to apply. But we need to seriously organize a branch that would be in charge of alchemist. Can you work on that, Colonel?”

“You mean recruiting the people and creating the paperwork, don’t you?”

That was a little risky, to be so cavalier with his top superior, but King felt as if he’d gotten the Furher’s trust.

“And finding every alchemist in Amestris up to today with your team, for the register to be complete and accurate.”

The task sounded undoable. And a potential setback. But the Furher might still be wary of him.

“You want him to be some kind of inquisitor?! Are you kidding us?”

The old man glared at Hendrick, the general that couldn’t give his approval to the test.

“I intend to make him take one of your place if he can pull this off. We don’t have that many soldiers that managed to defeat a rabid alchemist and we could use new blood.”

The objections were silenced with that, and King saluted the Fuhrer.

“We can start with Central, sir?”

“Of course. One city at a time. But we need to make this a little more challenging. Every promotion should be. How about we give you a time limit? You have two years, colonel. If you can calm down Central and recruit at least a hundred alchemists throughout the country in two years with your team, you’ll be the youngest general ever decorated in Amestris.”

The old man had some bite. King wondered if the homunculi would help him. He knew they had gathered information on alchemists. But the soldier doubted there was even seventy alchemists all over Amestris. Where would he find a hundred of them? Could they be imported?

“So in September two years from now.” He muttered.

With a wave of the end, the Fuhrer dismissed him. And as King walked out, he felt more overwhelmed then he’d been in a long time. This was pretty unheard of. But the initiative was tremendously big. He needed to find trustworthy soldiers to work on this project. He rushed back to his squad and requisitioned Irina right back.

There was not a second to lose.

…

“What do you mean you can’t make it?”

It was three days after Bradley’s new assignment. A short talk with Father had confirmed he would have some help from the homunculi in his endeavour, but not past their present knowledge of alchemists’ whereabouts. And that meant merely 20 alchemists all over the country. King hadn’t managed to get back home a single hour and was on the phone with his wife for the second time since they arrived in Central.

“I can’t be there tonight, Amelia. We need to get organized.”

“Why is it so urgent already?”

He hadn’t mentioned the time limit. He wasn’t sure what failing entailed and couldn’t consider failure as a possibility. But he felt pressured. Father had mentioned doubts and he had to convince him that knowing the exact location of every alchemist would aid not only with the future sacrifices they needed, but also with the seals of blood. Alchemist could cause massive destruction. Having more of them in the army meant wars on a far bigger scale. He wouldn’t let Amelia learn that either. He had barely taken the time to explain what he was working on. It would be all over the News soon enough.

“Because rogue civilians is a liability in a city as big as Central.”

That seemed to reach her, although she missed some of the information he had.

“We’re still visiting my aunt together. Tomorrow night?”

Bradley had hoped he could get away with it.

“I… I don’t know. I won’t be any less busy…”

Irina walked into his office and quickly guessed who he could be talking to.

“We can hold the fort, colonel. Settle down a bit.”

She talked a little louder than needed, and Amelia perked up on the other line.

“Is that right? You might even have time tonight, King?”

He sighed, covering the mic part of the phone.

“I guess I could make it. But I need to work on this project, Amelia.”

The position he was aiming for wasn’t going to be given to him. He had to earn it, still and always.

“Pick me up at 8 then. It won’t be as bad as you’d think.”

He hung up a few minutes later, his green eye finding Irina’s smiling face.

“Because I convinced Baron to go out with you doesn’t mean you have a right to intervene in my personal life.” He reminded her.

“I’m not intervening. I’m doing you a favor. You always work yourself to the very brink. We have two years to make this work. You can live two entire years like a machine, evading your wife as soon as you’re under stress and hope to stay married.”

He laughed, but she was hitting too close to home for him to deny her point in words. He had a tendency of pushing away Amelia whenever work took over. As if they couldn’t go together. He needed to keep her as far from that part of his world as he could. But evading her was out of the question.

“We need every files organized and templates created and more men to make this work. You have any idea how many alchemists we have in Central?”

Her shoulders sagged in response.

“Except for the already enrolled state alchemist? We have ten of them, and I heard they couldn’t be accounted for in your little gamble with the Fuhrer.”

 _And Gold tooth doesn’t count either_ , he thought angrily.

“We’ll go through every library. Make a list of the literature even remotely related to alchemy. We’ll research every books bought or borrowed from the list. We also need a list of every ingredient of use in alchemic experiment.”

He knew where to look for that. There were a few things Gold tooth and his colleagues owed him after all. Like his eye, his childhood and maybe even his fertility.

“We need an alchemist on the team, colonel. Despite your surprisingly extensive knowledge of that field, we lack expertise.”

“We’ll get one, believe me. I have the perfect candidate in mind.”

Berthold Hawkeye, Grumman’s son-in-law, would received an unexpected visit in the following days. King would warn him how he made sure he didn’t receive unwanted attention during the first wave of attack against alchemists in Central. And if he refused to cooperate, well… He still had a child. Surely he wouldn’t let it get to that. King knew that such tactics were beneath him. But he had little respect for the man that had gotten young Anne-Elisabeth pregnant and eventually dead. And he needed a working team fast to get this plan up and kicking.

…

“It’s so good to see you, both of you, really!”

Ella seemed a bit thinner than the last time they’d seen her. She gave a long and warm hug to Amelia and awkwardly embraced King, even though she had always kept her distance with him before. He patted her back, unsure of how to react and they were ushered to the kitchen, where a feast awaited them.

“With the Armstrong family’s aid, we’ve never been better. The money flows right in and I have even managed to save some, for once.”

“That’s excellent, aunt Ella. We’ve been through so much in the few last years. But you’re sure that everything is okay with your health? You’re not overworking yourself?”

Her aunt shook her head in answer, turning the conversation toward their projects.

“You’ve already found a place to stay?”

“Yeah. The apartment still need some decorating, but the army already supplied every furniture. Moving has never been easier.” Amelia explained cheerfully.

King was glad to see her smiling face and merely mentioned a new military project he was working on that might have him moving around a lot in a few months.

“Always so busy, young man. I never understood where a single person could muster so much ambition. But I do hope you treat my niece nicely.”

“I think we’ve found our rhythm. And we’re really happy together.” Amelia declared before that King could try to defend himself from this weird accusation.

“She still sing in the shower doesn’t she?”

This time, a genuine smile blossomed on Bradley’s face. He hadn’t expected to ever get on Ella’s good side.

“She sure does.”

His voice turned somewhat soft and he didn’t felt embarrassed to show how much he cared about his wife. This was her family. Almost his family. The older woman approved of them, after months and years of disapproval. They enjoyed casual conversations and food for a few minutes, until Ella asked the question that Bradley had started to hate.

“Are you two thinking of starting a family soon? I don’t want to rush you, but marrying so late means that you shouldn’t wait long for kids. You’ll be 30 before you know it, Amelia, and you know that from 35, pregnancies can be riskier.”

King didn’t choke on his bite of pork, but he did turn two shades paler. Ella certainly noticed how quickly Amelia was to reach for his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. The room felt tense for the few seconds of silence, until that Mrs. Bradley tried an explanation that would only buy them time.

“We haven’t been married for a year yet and the army keeps King so busy. I’d rather enjoy having him to myself for now when he’s home.”

The fact she didn’t outright said that kids weren’t an option felt like a betrayal, but Bradley kept his head straight. He wouldn’t falter. He was over this…

“Don’t you get lonely when he’s out working? A child would make it a lot easier for you, give you something to invest yourself in daily. Believe me, when your parents send you under my care, it helped in ways you couldn’t imagine. But in your case, being the perfect house wife back home… It sounds so beneath you, dear girl. Unless you want a side job and…”

Was that insufferable woman implying that…he was forcing Amelia into a life of boredom or something? He saw red and if not for the gentle hand on his wrist, he might have intervened in the conversation right then. This felt like a farce. They would never…

“King needs my support, auntie.” Amelia said firmly.

“And I’d like to know the Corsaire’s name will not disappear into oblivion with me. It’s not…”

“Enough!” Bradley snapped, hitting the table with both of his palms, making both of the women jump.

Amelia met his eyes for a few seconds and saw how hard this was for him. He seemed ready to let the cat out of the bag, but she didn’t him to take the blame for something he had no control over. She took his hand once more, her fingers intertwining with his. The slight tremble in his arm didn’t go unnoticed to her.

“Aunt Ella,” she sighed. “We won’t… have children of our own.”

“Why’s that?!”

“I…” Bradley started, looking gloom and resigned.

“We can’t. They started making new tests to verify fertility and such. We took one together, I’m pretty sure there was a bet involved on Bradley’s side, but anyway. The results came recently and we know that we can’t have children. It might be due to the wounds we sustained three years ago.”

When Aruego attacked her village. King felt his heart clenching painfully in his chest and looked away. He wasn’t sure what he hated more, the fact Amelia was lying or the fact she pinned one of their worst shared experience to sustain her lie. Ella paled and stuttered before to regain her composure.

“But I thought you were both as good as new. Amelia, it must be a mistake, you’re…”

“We can still adopt.” Her niece cut her off. “It’s just… a touchy subject for both of us. And since it’s our reunion, I didn’t want the ambiance to turn south because of this…”

“Of course.” Her aunt muttered, her eyes eying Bradley an instant. “I’d never meant… You’re both so strong!” she sighed.

The rest of the night was more awkward, but the tensed atmosphere settled to compassion instead of pity around dessert and when the couple left, it was with another hug and even a peck on the cheek for both of them.

Sitting in the car as they head back home, King wondered why Amelia had dragged this on.

“There’s no need to talk about it now.” She whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Why? You think I’m going to lose it another time?”

“I don’t know, Brad.”

“We’ve never talked about adopting before. You know we can’t…”

“I’m sick of being told what I can and can’t do, King! When I got married with you, I thought I could be independent in the eye of other peoples. Mrs. Bradley would be her own woman, but my role is clear. I’m supposed to have your children, keep your house tidy and be a model wife.”

“Who put that idea into your head?”

“My aunt. My mother before her. The women I meet when I go out shopping. The friends I make. The people of Central who cares about the colonel that saved their loved on from prison, or war, or I don’t know what else. I’m an hero’s wife, I should…”

Three days in Central and she was already like this. He wondered if she’d told him if it hadn’t been from her aunt’s insistent questions.

“Stop doing that. I was looking for a supportive wife, but that’s it. Otherwise, I just want you to be healthy and happy, whatever that entails. If you want to have a job, you can…”

“I don’t want a job.” She interrupted him, her voice shattering. “I want a family, King. There are enough war orphans all over this country for us to find at least one child that could be ours.”

How could Father ever permit that, when he had already prepared a vessel for Pride to pretend being his son in a few years? He couldn’t tell her that. It would crush her. He parked in front of their block, trying to keep all of his emotions under control. He hated this situation they were in. He hated feeling helpless in front of her needs. Amelia had been holding back for his sake. She didn’t confide in him because she was scared of hurting him and she had been right. As strong as he was, it still hurt.

“Let’s get you inside. It’s too cold to…”

“I’m sorry for getting emotional. I’m sorry for not telling my aunt it wasn’t a possibility for us. Sometimes I think this is just a dream that I’ll wake up from.”

He almost carried her back in. She swallowed back her tears as they walked up the stairs. Cracked down when the door closed and he held her as she shook and apologized for being so selfish. But she always missed him. And she had devoted herself to enough clients in the past, the grateful and ungrateful kind. She needed something, someone to make her feel needed and sane.

“You need to get out of the house, meet people.” He tried.

But making friends, true honest to goodness friends sounded so impossible to him. And Amelia wasn’t ready to entirely give up her dream of a family even if it meant hurting him. He promised to verify if he could adopt a human child and keep him safe despite the _others_. He swore the only thing he had against adopting was the safety of the kid. She had an argument that would have brought him to his knees if they hadn’t been snuggled on their couch, entangled in grief and her warm tears.

“That kid we’d adopt, it could have been you, Brad.”

His throat too tight to swallow, he simply held her closer, waiting for the storm of emotions they were in to pass.

When they went to bed, she had regained her calm and his heart wasn’t beating as fast in his chest. A cold shower and some tea had helped, but it was mostly holding hands and exchanging bittersweet kisses that steadied them back. King made advances on her to be rebuked. They were so often apart that she barely ever pushed him away.

“I’m losing blood,” she explained herself.            

He was always slightly scared when she’d warn him of her period in such a way. It was normal for her, but it sounded crude and ominous to him. As if she was more fragile for a few days. She was a lot cuddlier though at those times.

“Just hold me through the night.”

He felt playful and asked her : “How?”

When he was wrapped all around her, his nose deep in her hair, his chest against her back, one leg almost covering hers, only then was she content.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t say anything before of what I was thinking. The wound seemed so wide open still.”

“I thought you were the one who’d asked that we didn’t keep secret from each other.”

“So you’d tell me of this new army project you’re working on?”

He sighed.

“It’s confidential. And it doesn’t involve you as much as adopting a kid would.”

“Sure. Being your wife doesn’t mean your actions reflects on me.”

He stroked her arms, running his nails over her skin.

“The Fuhrer gave me a job. I have one year and 361 days to register a hundred alchemists throughout the country.”

She stirred, trying to turn around, but he kept her in place, chuckling against her neck.

“There’s an “if” coming, isn’t there? What happens if you don’t manage that impossible feat in the imparted time?”

“I guess I’ll stay a colonel. Or that I’ll be demoted or something. But Melia, the interesting part is _if_ I manage. I’ll be a general.”

“At 33? That’s… that’s awfully young for a general, isn’t it?”

“We could have a house instead of an apartment. And a car that would belong only to us and not the army.”

“Who needs a car around Central? I can get to every store I need by walking.”

He kissed her behind the ear, one of her weak spots and she melted against him.

“Brad, please… Tell me you’re not seriously thinking of…”

“It was an order from my superior officer. I’m not supposed to refuse.”

“But…”

He sucked on her skin, eliciting new shivers in her body and this time, when she turned around for a kiss, he let her. She couldn’t worry. Not now. In a year and 360 days she would have a right too. He worried on his own enough as it was.

…

“Colonel Bradley, is it? I’m really busy and…”

“You’d better make time for me, Mr. Hawkeye. This isn’t a courtesy call, although I did know Anne-Elizabeth fairly well.”

The creases in the blond man’s face vanished an instant in pure surprise and with a sigh, the alchemist opened the door to his house. There was a long creaking and King noticed upon entering that the place had seen better days. Holes in a few walls, not to mention burns mark on the carpet here and there and a scurrying that reminded the manmade homunculus of rats made him wonder what could be taking place in this house.

“This was my grandparents’ house. I’m a little behind in renovations. But I can tell by the look on your face that you couldn’t care less. Let’s speak in the living room, colonel.” Berthold suggested, leading the way.

King couldn’t prevent himself from looking intently everywhere around. He wanted to see Grumman’s granddaughter almost as much as he wanted to account this man in the brand new alchemists’ registry. Which was a lot. It was his first lead in alchemists that didn’t come from shady sources.

They sat in opposing chairs, Berthold not even offering a cup of tea or a glass of water. His clothes were worn out and his face was covered with a recent beard that needed better shaving. The man looked like he hadn’t slept in a while. And there was no trace of a child, no matter how hard King looked. He remembered Juliett’s house. Roy’s presence was easy to see, almost everywhere.

“You knew my wife?”

“I’m friends with her father. I used to baby-sit her.”

Berthold looked shocked by the very idea Anne-Elisabeth could ever be… His eyes looked watery an instant and he coughed the next, fighting against his emotions. The loss was plain to see and King was reminded how terrible it would be for him to ever lose Amelia.

“I have a proposition for you, Hawkeye. Anne-Elisabeth had told me you were an alchemist a few years ago. And you know how things are for your profession lately.”

“Of course I know. But Anne confided in you? How come she never mentioned you?”

“We weren’t that close. Good acquaintances at most. The thing is, I’m developing a program to protect both alchemists and civilians. You have two options if you want the protection. You register yourself to the army as an alchemist and accept regular evaluations of your works, to make sure no human being could be threatened by your research.”

The man’s jaw hardened and Bradley could tell the offer wasn’t to his liking. But who in his right mind would like to be watched over like a prey or potential criminal and judged?

“Your other option is to enlist as a state alchemist and work more closely to the army. In this case, you’d be compensated with enough money each year to buy a new house or get this one redone.”

“There’s a catch.”

“You’d be mobilized on the battlefield if your alchemy can serve as a weapon against our enemies. And your research might be shifted to interest of the state. But I have a third offer for you, Hawkeye, since you’re the first alchemist I’m meeting. You must have learned from someone. And I need to find every alchemist in this city if possible, to make sure they’re accounted for and that nothing like the events of two years ago may happen ever again.”

King tried to muster the most earnest expression he could, while wearing an eyepatch and sitting up with his back straighter than a metal rod. Berthold frowned in answer and raised an eyebrow.

“You want me to sell my fellows in science.”

“No human being should be cooped up working on research alone, or we could have another serial killer on our hands. Not to mention people vanishing in the slums to be found in pieces. You know what happens on the black markets. Human organs’ trafficking and such. We have enough work on our plate as it is keeping this country from being invaded by its neighbours.”

Berthold reflected an instant, his next question more practical:

“What’s in for me if I take you up on that offer?”

“Salary of a state alchemist, research evaluations once a year instead of twice, and no call to arms. As long as you help me in finding other alchemists.”

“I can’t help you out of Central.”

“But you can help me in establishing our work. We need to know which kind of books and codes you use in your study. How to differentiate a beginner from a master. If you have any club or leagues you attend, I need to know of them.”

Hawkeye let out a long sigh, clearly overwhelmed. King gave him time, silently looking around the room. He heard a shuffling of feet upstairs. A small voice humming. Berthold looked up to the ceiling and seemed drained from all hope an instant.

“What of my daughter? I don’t want her tied to the army or any potential danger.”

“She’ll be safe.” Bradley honestly replied. “If she studies alchemy in the future, she’ll be offered the same possibilities as you, but otherwise, she’ll be as much a civilian that we swore to protect as she is now.”

“That sounds fair… I know of five, maybe six alchemists around Central. Come back with a contract and I’ll give you their names and address.”

King had come prepared. He took a contract already completed from his uniform and was happy to know he had around six, maybe seven alchemists enlisted on one hundred. He agreed of visiting again with Berthold’s first paycheck in a few days, knowing he’d bring Irina and Butcher with him for the book list.

..

Two days later, King had added 6 alchemists to the registry and managed to receive about ten more names. The promise of gold or protection worked miracle on people that had been shunned if not literally forced to run from their home and hide on the streets. A few tried to deny Bradley’s claims, which meant he’d search their house until he got what he was looking for. Gold tooth was the one in charge of the evaluations at first, which meant King had to work closely with him, until he convinced Father that the man’s attitudes weren’t good among human people. It was too soon to reveal themselves. So Gold tooth was replaced by a younger, charming state alchemist that looked almost androgynous. Envy was pissed of his role, but it was only until they found someone that could take his place and be trusted despite being human. King didn’t like the fact he had to work with one of his brothers, but no one except Amelia could tell as much.

As the day ended, King called home to warn his wife he wouldn’t be back in the morning, once again. The phone rang about ten times and she never answered. It was around 11, but she was a light sleeper and preferred to be awakened by one of his call and to toss and turn all night, listening to the sound in the block, hoping he was coming back home. Two tries later, King was starting to feel worried. Amelia usually stayed home at night. He knew she had been invited by Mrs. Christmas to come by her place and see Roy. The boy had always adored Amelia and it was mutual.

But he couldn’t remember when she was supposed to go and even if she was still there, Roy should have been put to bed and there was no reason for her not to be home. It was almost midnight now. He wondered if he should swing home to check on her, although his files wouldn’t complete themselves alone and he was neck-deep in bureaucratic problems with all the work he was trying to get done. They had talked on the phone for the last days. He missed her. A fourth call got him even more anxious and he might have jumped out the window of his office to get out of their faster if Baron hadn’t barged in, half dressed in his uniform, looking aghast.

“A shooting at a local bar, sir. Archer’s unit has been asking for reinforcements.”

King got up, trying to forget his worries. As they slipped in the car, Irina trying to tie her hair in a bun, he heard the location and his heart freeze in his chest.

Mrs. Xmas’ place.

His memory decided to work, as he asked which day they were. Sunday. Amelia was supposed to visit Roy and his aunt on a Sunday. And there had been a shooting if it wasn’t still going on. The wrath and the confusion mixed together in a dangerous cocktail at the idea anyone could have hurt his wife. And deep in his heart, he was worried about the orphan too. Roy Mustang had been through a lot for someone so young. It almost looked the kid attracted trouble.

 _Please, let me be wrong for once._ He thought to himself as they sped through the night.

To be continued…


	30. Expanding threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King is faced with something he can't fix. Or process.

The first gunshot had been a shock. The second one reminded her of her hometown under attack. And then she let her mind collapse as instinct took over, forcing Roy to hide behind her. The yells and the awful smell of burnt flesh came from the adjacent room. Mrs. Xmas looked shocked and got up, her first reaction to walk up the door. Amelia simply froze, her voice failing to whisper a warning. In her mind, all she could think was that the door should be locked, remain locked and that anyone on the other side was already as good as death. She would regret that thought later on, but at the moment, she was tempering her madly beating heart and trying to keep a small boy quiet despite the numerous gunshots, orders yelled at the women in the main room and the yell of pain or fear that echoed.

Amelia had her hands full, and while she’d like to say she was revising every defensive moves and postures she’d learned, she was pretty much praying that the gunshots stopped altogether. The fear was threatening to wrap around her heart, to reach her very soul and break her. She had been broken once and she couldn’t go back there. She felt helpless and she’d wished for a second she’d decline the invitation. But although there had been unrest in Central, there was no reason for an all out shooting. And why here of all places?

The door was kicked open after a few seconds of ominous silence, Mrs. Xmas thrown backwards and Amelia raised herself without thinking. She jumped at the shot that left Roy’s aunt with a hole in her forehead, but she didn’t back down. King had given her a few lessons about how to disarm an enemy. Xmas hadn’t touched the ground that the colonel Bradley’s wife was already moving. She balanced herself on one leg, using the adrenaline and her sheer will to pour more strength in her kick. She reached the gun, kicking it out of the stranger’s hand. The metallic weapon slipped on the lacked floor, stopping next to Xmas’ corpse. And when Amelia’s voice came out, it was to caution Roy:

“Stay where you are!” she yelled.

The boy quivered like a leaf beneath the table, seeing with horrified eyes the life gone from his aunt, the punch that forced Amelia to the floor. The woman recovered quickly, rolling on her side, swiping the feet of their attacker with both legs in a motion that she had only practiced with Irina once before. The man fell to the ground and Amelia wondered why no one else was barging in the room. The guy couldn’t have been alone. His gun might be big, but surely they had more than one gunman on their hands.

She tried to pull herself up but the man was shuffling on his knees, looking for his gun and yelling words that didn’t reach her ears. The panic was taking over. Or maybe was it the blood rushing to her head. She felt dizzy. Her stomach lurched. Her palms were moist. For an instant, she couldn’t hear anything, as if the world was fading around her. And a second later, clarity came back, with a pulsating ache in her skull and the taste of blood in her mouth. She might have bite her tongue. A fist came in wide arc, grazing her. She ducked and was able to warn herself that she couldn’t win against this man. Not on equal footing, because mother nature hadn’t decided to made them equal. So she did the only thing she could think of that wouldn’t get her killed. She dove for the gun. The man did the same.

Amelia found herself pushed into Mrs. Xmas’ chest and ribcage. The gun was in her back, and she couldn’t use her legs fast enough, the man towering over her, pushing his knees into her hips, wrapping his hands around her throat and squeezing. As she struggled she heard a cracking sound and couldn’t process where it was coming from, although it couldn’t be her, since she could still move both arms as she tried to plunge her fingers in his eyes. There was no place for thinking or humanity, not when her lungs were starting to burn and a small orphan needed protection.

Roy interfered then, his panic overcome by a sense of urgency that asked for action. He jumped between the two, kicking and biting the hostile man, giving some reprieve to Amelia. She didn’t lose a second, raising herself, grabbing the gun with shaking hands as the air slowly came back to her. She kicked right in the crotch, pulling back on Roy’s shirt to get him out of the way, pain and anxiety mixing together. The metal felt too warm beneath her fingers. She backed away from the man, raising the gun, Roy clutching to her skirt. The only noise in the room was their panting.

“Who won’t do it…” The man mocked her.

Roy was trembling so much, Amelia didn’t know how her legs remained straight. But she was past questions. Her first shot was in the leg, shredding fabric, skin, flesh and even bone. Blood barely splattered around, but Amelia didn’t feel safe yet. She could see on the other side of the door a scene right out of her worst nightmares. The girls and their clients had been shot, each and every one of them. Some were lying on the tables, their skull smashed open by the bullet, some other on the floor or the counter. She heard an alarm in the distance, as the man cried out in pain on the floor, swearing and insulting her at the same time.

“I’m make you pay, you bitc…”

She fired again. This time she didn’t stop, balancing the back gun on her shoulder to fire with a single arm while forcing Roy to hide her face in her skirt with her other hand. The recoil pushed against her bone, but the pain reminded her that she was alive and that this was real. She couldn’t process anything else right now, shooting him in the stomach and the face and everywhere she could. Bullets got stuck in the wall behind him. She put holes where his eyes used to be and stopped only when the pain in her shoulder made it too hard to hold the gun. Her grip didn’t falter and the gun simply lowered till the canon was against her hip. Roy was crying now, his smalls hands clamped over his ears.

And only then did the soldiers arrive.

…

King jumped from the car to cross the street, pulling his swords out, hearing the multiple gunshots roaring from the building.

“It was over and suddenly, it started again!” A soldier explained.

The squad was preparing himself, they had surrounded the place to make sure the shooting would be contained. They were letting everyone inside to die with their procedures.

And the gunshots went on. Four, six, eight. They were too close to be from separate weapons. He went in against the order, breaking down the door with a single kick. And one look at the first room told him what happened. But his eye was scanning every woman’s face, looking for his wife.

_Don’t be dead. Just don’t be dead._

He rushed through, easily noticing that no one needed saving here. But he could hear breathing from the room in the back, not the kitchen, the kitchen was empty of living, breathing people. He barged in to be faced by a bruised-up, disheveled Amelia that raise her gun with a wince in sheer reflex before to recognize him.

The scene felt so surreal that King didn’t manage to understand what he was seeing at first. Amelia was holding a gun to his face. Amelia had a bruise the size of an orange on the side of her face, chapped lips dripping with blood, not to mention a crying, traumatized four years old clutching to her. And her eyes. Her green, beautiful, peaceful eyes were that of a furious beast. It wasn’t anger he saw in her glare. It wasn’t even animosity or pain. It was sheer madness. Animalistic survival instincts that drove her far enough to hold a weapon. He tried to ascertain the situation. Lowered his blades. Noticed Mrs. Xmas next to the table. The cards and the glass of wine that had been left untouched. The blood that mixed together. The man that had been shot about 9 times, half lying, half sitting next to the entrance.

As the other soldiers moved in, Amelia jumped and pulled the trigger, firing in the floor at his feet. She couldn’t hold the gun right anymore. He saw the way she held her arm. Her shoulder might be dislocated. And her eyes, her soft, caring eyes were so foreign right now.

“What’s going on, sir?”

“Shut it, boys!” he snapped at the soldiers, unable to hold the anger in this time.

This was too much. His Amelia… She seemed to recognize his voice. The gun slipped from her hand and her eyes lose their edge. She blinked. She started breathing again. Roy whimpered and her eyes hovered over the room, before to rush back to Brad’s, as if she could fall if she didn’t hold his gaze. She was realizing what had just happened. He noticed the marks on her neck. More bruise, the shape of fingers. Her collar was all messed up. He wanted to kill someone so much at this point, but she’d taken his victim from him. And he knew she wouldn’t take it lightly. He hadn’t trained her in the idea of killing people. Only defending herself and now…

“Ame…”

“There was yelling and suddenly someone fired a gun in the other room and…” she tried explaining.

Her shoulders shook and she yelped in pain and Roy jumped against her leg, his hands grabbing fistful of her skirt to hold himself up. King didn’t know what to do for once. Her look fell to the corpse of the man. The attacker. The shooter. He saw her eyes widening as she absorbed what she’d just did.

“Look at me, Amelia.”

She shook her head and backed way from him when he took a step toward them.

“I didn’t…”

She tried to find something to focus on. Something that wasn’t death. She dropped on her knees and wrapped the small shivering boy in her arms.

“It’s okay Roy. We’re safe now. King is here, and he’ll get us out and I won’t let anyone, I won’t let no one hurt you, Roy-boy.”

His sobs grew as he clung to her more desperately and King was left to watch and despair. He hadn’t been there for her. He hadn’t saved her and she had been forced to save herself.

“Auntie is…”

“It’s okay, Roy, just don’t look okay? Just hold on to me, please.”

Bradley slid his blades back in the scabbards and decided that he would let himself panic later. For the moment, he needed to get his wife and his late best friend’s kid out of here.

“Come on, both of you,” he whispered.

He helped Amelia back on her feet and lifted Roy in his own arms despite her first protests. As they proceeded through the main room, his wife made sure that the boy wouldn’t look over King’s shoulder and stroked his small back in comforting motions. The other soldiers understood quickly enough. With the press covering of their wedding, the soldier’s wife was known and easily recognized. She had been through enough to be considered like an example by any individual in Central. Her fame wasn’t country-wide, but if she kept pulling stunts like this, King feared that she’d share the limelight. The population’s reaction wasn’t the only thing worrying him. At this rate, it was more father’s potential disapproval that scared him. As soon as they walked back on the street, a major almost jumped at him.

“What were they doing here?! Is that your family, colonel?”

“They are traumatized civilians, sir.”

“King… King, I don’t think I can stand up much longer…” Amelia admitted.

Baron wasn’t far and suggested that she sit in one of their car until everything was sorted out. The major looked suspicious and warned Baron to keep an eye on the woman before to turn his attention back to Bradley.

“Your wife was here and managed to stop the shooting all by herself?”

“All she did, she did in self-defence. And before you jump to conclusions, we should try to look at the bigger picture. If you’ll give me a minute, sir.” He added, making a quick sign towards the boy he was holding.

That seemed to calm the major a bit. King gave Roy back to Amelia, while Baron asked them if they needed anything.

“Maybe water… And a blanket for Roy. The night is falling and it’s getting colder.”

“I’ll get it for you, Mrs. Bradley.”

Amelia nodded, a pale smile on her face, before to let it fall down as she looked down at Roy. The boy wasn’t crying anymore, but he looked stunned.

“You should try to sleep, sweetie.”

“I can’t.”

“Just relax then. I’m not going anywhere.”

He nodded, gulping hard before to hide his face against her warm chest. The shock might break the kid and Bradley wondered if all the cuddling in the world could change that. He gently put an hand on Amelia’s good shoulder, so that she’d look up to him, as he kneeled in front of the opened car where she sat.

“Will you be alright?”

His voice sounded raw, since he wanted to ask much more than that and she glared at him before to give him a mischievous wink.

“I won’t break from something like this. How long before we can leave?”

The words came out even and clear, but he saw through her lie and the brave front she was putting on.

“A few hours. I’ll try to make it as quick as possible.”

Baron was back with two bottle a water and a blanket and a first aid kit. King turned his back on them, torn between his need to watch over Amelia until he was sure that she was truly alright and the fact he had responsibilities here.

While the corpses were aligned in the streets, covered with dark sheet of fabrics that were already absorbing part of the blood, a woman had been tied to a stretcher and was questioned by the major while two soldiers treated her wounds. King walked up to them, hearing the brief but awful report of what had transpired in this bar tonight.

“The customer… asked for something none o’ us girls would e’er do. This ain’t a… debauchery…” She coughed blood and rasped before to quickly add. “Then he took out a gun, so did his friend. They treated us all kind o’ names… so we ducked behind the tables and… took cover a’ well as we could. But he wasn’t… they were so fast. They killed the other customers first. The front door… locked. They threatened and yelled and we… screamed. The blood everywhere. Before that I’m hit, they started arguing. They wanted the money in the cash. One o’ the guy wanted…me too. I think one o’ them hated women a great deal.”

They had found a body carrying a gun in the main room, which explained a bit more how this much damage could have been done. Two shooters, slightly drunk and clearly mad. But if felt wrong to King. There had to be some kind of explanation. Some sense to be made out of this mess. A boy had been orphaned for the third time in his short life. His wife had been forced to kill a human being.

“Get this poor girl to the hospital,” the major sighed. “And search everywhere in this bar. I want to know if there were any weird dealings… You, colonel Bradley, with me. I need to interrogate your wife.”

“She’s in no state to…”

“The body left behind her is almost impossible to identify. We can’t find half of his teeth, the eyes are gone, most of the face is torn and he’s got holes all over. He may have killed girls, but he made it quick. What your wife did to him, that’s no self-defence. That’s butcher work.”

“Someone called?” Butcher asked.

“Just make yourself useful and search, kid!” the major retorted angrily.

King was starting to wonder why this man had been put in charge. He had almost no self-control. And he was starting to get on his nerves.

“She was threatened and panicked.”

“I wouldn’t expect you not to defend her, colonel. In fact, I should you should stay out of this investigation. You’re too involved already.”

A single glare shut the man up. Too involved?! If the regulations had changed, this was news to him, because he had been way too involved in the serial rapist’s investigation and in the rescuing of Amelia’s village from Aruego’s attack.

Amelia was pale and Roy had fallen asleep despite his efforts against it, lying in her lap, held close by her good arm.

“Mrs. Bradley, is it?”

She nodded to the major, exchanging a brief look with King.

“What were you doing here?”

“I was visiting my friend, Mrs. Xmas. We were in the backroom playing cards and chatting the night away.”

“You were trained to handle a gun, despite being a civilian?”

“After what I’ve been through during the civil war and the attack on my village, I thought I should have the means to defend myself. But I don’t handle guns. Unless you haven’t seen the state of my shoulder.”

King felt a mix of pride and worry. She was a little too direct here. But she was holding her ground and keeping her calm and that was part of the reason why he was so proud to call her his wife.

“What happened exactly, Mrs. Bradley, when that man entered the back room?”

She shuddered slightly at the question that forced her to remember. When she blinked, her eyes were watery but hard as stones beneath the tears.

“He shot Mrs. Xmas. I kicked the gun out of his hands. We struggled together. He tried to strangle me. Roy… that sweet boy jumped in and I could free myself and grab the gun. After pulling Roy back to me… I shot him.”

She tried to remain straight up in her seat, but she was clearly close to a nervous breakdown and the major thanked her for her time, taking a few steps back. He also pulled Bradley with him to exchange a few words while their subordinates were wrapping things up.

“That’s one hell of a wife you got, colonel. I wouldn’t like to face her when angry.”

“You won’t need to interrogate her again? She’s going to need time and…”

He hated himself for letting out how much he cared in front of a stranger, but at this point, if Central’s people didn’t know it already, they had to be blind.

“No. I don’t think… She’s pretty shaken. And that kid…”

“I don’t know if he has any family left. We’ll keep him with us for tonight.” Brad decided.

“Make that a few days. We have so many war orphans already…”

The major sounded a lot less vindictive than before. King was starting to feel intrigued by this man. Butcher walked up to them, carrying a bundle of paper in his arms.

“Sir, Major, Colonel, I’ve got… news. One of the man was aiming for these papers. He snatched a whole of them from behind the counter before his accomplice shot him dead. I don’t get all of it, but it sure looks like…”

King’s eyes turned into slits at the view of the pentagrams, stars and coded notes. Alchemy notes.

“This is bad. Cover it up.” He ordered. “We need to be discreet on this. Whoever was keeping those notes, they’re surely dead.”

The major agreed. He wasn’t stupid.

“Get back home, Bradley. We’ll handle this for now. I’ll see you tomorrow with my report.”

“I can…”

“This is my investigation. You already have your hands full as it is, with the state the missus is in, not to mention the boy and your little side project for the Fuhrer.”

“Fine then. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow, major…”

“Hakuro. Try to remember that name, colonel Bradley.”

The man sounded ambitious and King made a mental note to keep him in check in the future. A few specific orders to Butcher and Baron later and he was driving Amelia back home, with her sitting in the back seat of the army provided car, Roy remaining blissfully asleep.

He tried talking to her, but she asked him for peace. She couldn’t think about what she’d done right now. She couldn’t accept what she had done in fact. It was a nervous drive back home, looks exchanged in the rear view. When they got home, she let him carry Roy inside and it wasn’t before the was securely laid on the bed in their guest chamber that she finally started talking. In fact, she started blabbering as if her life depended on it. King simply had her sitting on their bathroom counter, checking her bruises and cuts as delicately as he could.

“I just reacted, I don’t know how, I don’t know…”

He removed her jacket, her shirt, one layer at a time and slowly stripped her down to her skirt and underwear. The fact she let him do it as if she was a doll between his hands scared him, but at least she kept talking.

“Roy should have been put to sleep two hours ago, but he was so happy to see me, that boy really is something else, you know. So we made an excepting and he was playing next to the table when he didn’t climb in my lap to steal a cookie. I think the plate fell down when I pushed him under the table. There were crumbs in his hair.”

“Your shoulder need to be set back. If we wait, it will only get worse.”

“I don’t really care about that shoulder. Did you see Mrs. Xmas dress? It was covered with lace and…”

“Amelia, please.”

She held his stare and sighed deeply. He had cleaned her face and hands already, making sure with a few pat and caress that there was no internal bleeding. Clothes drenched in cold water were applied on her abused neck and he had found some ice to keep against her bruised temple.

“I don’t want to cry out. Roy could wake up and I don’t think I can face him now.”

“It’s okay, you just need to bite in something. I’ll make it quick.”

Focusing on treating her wounds kept most of his anger at bay. But he still needed to run this anger on something or someone. She gripped to his shirt and bite in a towel as he set the shoulder back, a muffled scream coming out of her. And suddenly, as if the sudden pain had awakened her sense, the tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I killed a man, King.”

“I’m just glad you’re alive.”

“You don’t understand…”

He raised one brow at her, as she sat on the counter, half naked, cold and bruised. He’d never wanted to see her like that. Never. And he hoped that nothing similar would ever happen. And she realized how unfair she sounded. To him who had killed countless times. Did he still feel the same as she did? Did he ever feel like this at all?

“I know, Melia.”

“I felt nothing. That… that monster could have hurt Roy, he had hurt so many people, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t feel.”

But it was a lie because he knew how killing could burn on the inside. How being a monster in other people’s eyes felt... She had made him learn that impression so well. He wrapped her in his arms as she started shaking, unable to stay apart anymore. He needed to know she was alive. He needed to keep her together somehow.

“I just wanted him down and to stay down. I shot so many bullets at him. I couldn’t stop myself. I…”

“It’s okay, Melia.”

“How can it be?”

“You did what was needed. You protected Roy and yourself. If I had been there myself… You know I would have make him suffer, don’t you? For even laying a hand on you.”

She laughed her broken, awful laugh and it killed him inside. He carried her back to their room with her legs wrapped around his waist and her good arm clinging to his blue uniform. Her tears stained the fabric and she sniffled against his chest. He laid her on the bed, but she clung to him, as desperate as Roy had been. His throat was a knot of guilt and regrets as he kissed her forehead, ushering meaningless words. He let her cry and grip and claw at him as much as she wanted, knowing she’d do the same. But when he shook it was from anger.

As the tears and sobs died down, she laid on her back, holding his hand, basking in his warmth.

“Is it true, what they say? That with time… You get over it?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed in her ear. “Although you did what was needed.”

They remained silent for a while. The sun was slowly going up in the sky and King wondered if he could really leave her in a few hours.

“You think Roy will be okay?” She asked him. “He’s been through so much already… I’m afraid this might be too much.”

King wondered why she loved the boy so much. He was cute. And he was an orphan. A pitiable frail thing, somewhat full of potential. Juliett’s son. The thought was painful. How many times could he fail a kid without even meaning to?

“Kids are pretty resilient. He’ll get through this.”

“But what will happen to him now? I don’t think he has any family left alive.”

He knew where she was going right then, but it was too late to protest.

“I think we should keep him.” Amelia went on. “He already knows both of us. It’d be easier and…”

“But I haven’t…”

“King, I need to know Roy will be safe. At least until he’s big enough to defend himself. He’s so small. He’s lost so much already.”

He hadn’t asked father yet, but it sounded as though he couldn’t delay it much longer.

“Give yourself time. We’ll keep him here for now.”

He had an investigation to complete and a branch to develop. He kissed her forehead and suggested that she get some rest.

“I’ll sleep when you leave. I like to hear your breathing…”

Two hours later, when he finally left, Bradley had a strange feeling in his heart. He was tired and stressed out alright and his anger was still pulsing, still begging for some kind of release. But more than anything else, it was the idea that Amelia was remaining behind in her state of mind. She would cuddle with Roy and console him and feed him and convince herself that she needed the boy to go through with the actions she’d taken. He could see it from here. She wanted her family so much. And here an helpless kid was literally thrown in her arms.

He could be theirs. But that meant more danger in the future for the boy. Juliett wouldn’t have wanted that for her son. She had given up on the army to give her family a normal life. She had never talked about coming back after giving birth to Roy. Maybe she would have, when he’d gotten older. But those ideas weren’t helping. He had a meeting with one Major Hakuro. And he had to find a way to meet father before the end of the day. The longer Amelia could nurture her illusions, the harshest it would be to take the boy from her.

As he reached the military headquarters, he was met by Lust disapproving eyes.

“I heard the latest. Taking in a poor orphan. That’s really sweet, dear brother.”

“Cut the bullshit, Lucy.” He retorted harshly.

His patient had been mostly used up by his traumatized wife. The homunculus woman laughed and turned on her heels.

“Just swing by around twelve to meet with Father. We’ll be expecting you.”

“I’ll be there.”

He dreaded what would follow, but went to Hakuro’s quarters. The major had a squad similar to his own. The discovery over alchemy had been checked by Berthold Hawkeye and the blond man looked exhausted.

“What do we have in this bar?” Bradley asked, right to the point.

“The notes you found are foreign to this country’s alchemy, colonel.” Hawkeye started. “They were stolen, for what purpose, I can’t tell. But the only time I met such notes…”

“We’ll finish this discussion alone, Hawkeye. Unless Major Hakuro intend to join the alchemists’ management branch of the army, this is classified information.”

Berthold withheld a smile as Hakuro gave a look of utter discontentment.

“I don’t have time for this kind of work.”

“Maybe you should make time. I’ll relay the information I can to you asap, Hakuro.”

With that, Bradley escorted Berthold out.

“Where did you meet this kind of notes? What kind of formula is in there.”

“It’s not a formula. It’s some kind of counter-acting alchemy. I met it once, in the South… Close to Ishval in fact.”

“Who else could know of them? One of the shooters was looking for those.”

“An alchemist, maybe from Xing, or paid by Xing. Their alkahestry is all over it.”

“Someone in our country use it then? Who?”

Berthold shrugged his shoulders.

“You want me to study the notes? I could make a major discovery if I could decode them. And better inform you.”

His intellectual curiosity was clear as day, but Bradley shrugged.

“You’re free to decode as much as you want. But I need more names. Try not to stay cooped up in your house.”

“As if I could with the renovations going on. Riza is a bundle of nerves in that hotel room.”

“I’m not finding you a babysitter. We made enough arrangements for you as it is.”

“Oh, Irina already offered to babysit on her free time.”

 _What is it with women and children?_ Bradley thought hungrily.

“Isn’t there anything close to Ishval still in our jurisdiction?” he asked Baron a minute later as he barged in his office, aiming straight for the map on the wall.

“I don’t know sir!”

“From east city we got Pleonuk, then Kaumafy…” he went by memory, noticing the third line on the map. “Resembool? That’s the closest point, huh…”

“Oh, it’s a little down on the border, really quiet, they raise sheep and…”

“Book tickets for Resembool, Baron. I need to check something out there. We might push as far as Ishval, so make sure that we have the necessary equipment.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Wha…”

He noticed the worried look on Barron’s face and remembered that Amelia had just been caught in a shooting and killed someone. He had turned back into work mode and forgotten for a few minutes.

“On next week, Baron. Butcher or Irina, which one of you will hold the fort?”

“Irina volunteered, colonel.”

“Hey!!!”

King smiled despite his growing headache from the lack of sleep. He would cover the East region of Amestris in less than three months. If an alchemist was hiding in Ishval, he’d drag his ass to their country and give him papers himself. He needed all the names he could get. Not to mention if he gave a nice potential sacrifice to Father, he might accept the idea of his Wrath adopting a human boy.

To be continued…


	31. Beautiful boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where King has to make a decision about one Mustang kid and meet with a familiar man in Resembool.

I chose you

Chapter 31 – Beautiful boy

“You’re planning to adopt a human child?” Father slowly repeated.

He seemed as quiet as always, but King wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not. The thing/man/being never really was one for expressing emotions other than annoyance in front of him.

“It would appeal to the people…” Bradley started, remaining as straight faced as possible.

“But you weren’t supposed to adopt before twenty-four years from now… or so… How many was it Pride?” He asked, looking over his shoulder at the shivering shadows.

“More or less 25 years, Father.”

The blond man toyed with his beard, staring deeply at King.

“How many more requests will you have for me, Wrath? You’ve yet to show results with your last endeavour.”

“I won’t ask again. Not even if the boy dies. Taking him under my wing…”

“You’ll be a saint, of course. But this _thing_ will interfere with your work and delay you. You must raise through the ranks. I need more control over the wars you humans fight. The current Fuhrer is obsessed with peace.”

Father mused over that choice. Bradley waited for the verdict. He knew better than to decide by himself for something this important, even if the impression of being held back like a child in everything he did was getting on his nerves.

“You’re not suggesting this out of human emotions, are you? First the wife. Now the son. What will it be next? A daughter and a dog?! If I accept, the boy better not prove to be trouble for us.”

“He won’t be.”

 _What could a child do against you_ , King thought bitterly.

“I’m getting lenient with you, Wrath. I hope you remember who owns your life.”

“You do, Father.”

“Father…huh? You’d be one. Maybe could you use this as practice to rule later on. If it doesn’t slow your ascension, it’s fine by me. But this is the last time you’ll ask me for something like this, Wrath, am I clear?”

King nodded, wondering if there could be a punishment waiting for him.

“Now then… I had you scheduled for a visit for another matter. There were sights of your elder brother, Greed. Envy is currently tracking him around Dublith. I want you to go over there as soon as possible.”

“I’m heading to the East in a few days. I’ll meet up with Envy on my way back.”

“Excellent. I need my Greed back to find another vessel. Capture him quickly and take him back to me. Stay discreet about it.”

That sounded like a challenge, but Bradley promised to bring back Greed. Walking out of the underground quarters, he headed for Hakuro’s office and checked on Roy’s file. The boy had no family left in the country to claim him. Juliett’s parents were all in Xing but hadn’t been reached yet. The communications between both countries weren’t exactly easy. The orphanages of Central were full and the conditions weren’t that different from his life back in the labs. Kids this small ended up abused by the system or left down to rot in the streets. King collected the right forms and quickly got through the paperwork. All that was left was to ask Roy’s opinion and to read his aunt’s will. Being as efficient as ever, Bradley procured himself the said will in a matter of hours. It hadn’t been updated after the Mustang’s passing, not taking into account the child in her care. A call with Grumman later and the man made homunculus had his mind settled. He gave orders to his subordinates and headed back home to make sure Amelia hadn’t changed her own mind.

In fact, his wife had been as productive as him. She’d called Irina in for a favor and managed to get most of Roy’s stuff from Mrs. Christmas’ place. The boy was wearing fresh clothes and absentmindedly playing with a colorful top in the living room while Amelia prepared dinner. There were a few things amiss, like the dirty laundry waiting on a chair, while blood soaked clothes sat in the bathroom’s vanity. Amelia had fought against the stains for hours before to give up entirely.

King wasn’t sure that she should be up after the night she’d been through, but he wouldn’t fight against her. Instead, he gave a forced smile to Roy and went to hug Amelia. Her bruises were darker, but her voice sounded more like herself than it did yesterday.

“You’re early.” She observed with a strained smile.

He put the papers on the counter, instantly grabbing her attention. From one look, she understood, her eyes shining for an instant. Part pride, part love and he felt relieved. This looked much more like his wife.

“I wasn’t sure if you would go through with it.” Amelia admitted.

“I’m still not sure if this is the right thing to do. We can wait to officialise it. Is it still what you want? Really?”

“It might be sudden, but Roy needs a family and we were agreed that we would consider adoption. It’s just… happening a little faster than we expected.”

That had to be an understatement, but King knew she would go through with it. Making sure that the soup she had prepared could wait on the burner for a moment, she walked up to the living room, her husband right on her heels.

“Roy? How do you feel?”

The boy looked up and blinked once, not sure how to answer that question.

“Can’t I go back home now?”

“It wouldn’t be safe. And to be honest…”

Her voice faltered and Bradley sighed.

“You saw everything, didn’t you, Roy? Your aunt didn’t get back up,” he interfered.

The child was quick to look away, while Amelia berated King for being too harsh. But then Roy looked back up with his dark eyes aimed straight at Brad’s. He knew his situation wasn’t good and put on a brave face.

“What will happen to me now?” he asked.

Sitting down on the floor next to him, the couple exchanged a brief look.

“We were thinking of keeping you with us.” Amelia started.

“If you want to stay that is. You have family in Xing if you’d rather…” King intervened.

“Xing? Mom’s side? Auntie mentioned them once, but…”

Roy paled a bit, trying to focus on his small hands. He looked smaller than ever, barely three feet tall, his legs crossed and his toys left behind without a thought.

“Mom left for a reason… I can’t… I don’t know them. I didn’t even know mom.”

“Oh, sweetheart, come here.” Amelia gently asked him, her arms wide open for the boy.

“No!” he snapped at her, breathing heavily. “I… If I cry, I can’t think.”

“You don’t need to make a decision now Roy.” She told him, taken aback by his reaction. “Unless…” She looked at King who simply shrugged his shoulders. “Unless you tell me you’d rather be somewhere else right now?”

“I miss my aunt. All my aunties…” he whispered, his hands turning into small shaking fists. “But… I’d rather stay here. For now. If… If it’s okay.”

The last part was mostly directed at King and the colonel noticed the quick, scared glimpse Roy threw at him from beneath his dark locks. The boy liked Amelia a great deal, but he was always afraid of angering her husband. Bradley had never been harsh around him, although he looked rough and menacing to most children.

“I won’t eat you, Roy. The least I can do is look after you.”

“But we’re not… family.”

“You’re already part of our family, sweetheart.” Amelia protested instantly. “Your mom was like a sister to King. And you were the only other man I danced with at my wedding, if I recall correctly.”

That finally made the boy smile.

A silent look was enough for both adults to decide adoption talks would come later on. Right now, Roy needed comfort and stability. He was too young to wonder about having surrogate parents. They shared a quiet dinner and the evening was pretty short for the kid, who was a lot more tired than he let on. King warned Amelia that he’d be leaving for the East soon.

“You’ll write to me?”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to. I’ll be moving around a lot and going to the South before heading back.”

“It’s going to be rough, staying alone with a traumatized Roy, considering I’m just as traumatized as him.” She admitted.

Slept came late that night, but it wasn’t interrupted. From then, the days seemed to go by too quickly, until King’s departure was but one day away.

The funerals for Mrs. Christmas were held on a Sunday and he accompanied Amelia and Roy, all three of them dressed in black from head to toes. Bradley despised funerals. He had seen a fair share of them in the past, forced to watch over the military funerals given to fallen comrades after each conflict. He had missed all the most important funerals he should have attended, like Grumman’s daughter, Amelia’s parents. The last one he’d been to was Juliett and Lloyd’s. The very thought made his skin crawl and he couldn’t even glimpse at the kid on the backseat as they drove to the cemetery. Shame was too human for him. But guilt was still a part of his anger and King controlled it with the rest of the awful wrath that filled his veins.

Roy was quiet, keeping a firm grip on Amelia’s hand as they followed the cortege and waited under a gray sky for a brief elegy. When the wooden box was lowered in the hole, the boy didn’t cry or tremble. He looked untouched. Amelia shed a few tears, remembering the woman’s help for their wedding preparations and her sharp mind. There were few except for them. Lloyd’s sister was a young widow and their family had been reduced to both siblings. There were people for the girls from the bar. Almost twenty new tombs had been dug up. Roy was the only child and was praised for his straight face. He put a single red flower on the grave and stood there for a moment, a dozens of questions turning around in his head.

When the people started moving, Roy remained still, as if he waited for something unexpected to happen. Bradley would have preferred to leave early. He still had some packing to do and he knew staying here wouldn’t help any of them. But Amelia was waiting and King decided that he wouldn’t show impatience before that everyone had cleared the space. Only when there was no one but his tutors in earshot did the boy dare to talk.

“Why is she in a box?”

The question felt innocent enough but Amelia couldn’t seem to find her voice, struggling with her own emotions. Cemeteries reminded her of everyone she had lost already. Roy wasn’t trembling or shivering or crying. He looked up at them, pale but curious. King remembered he’d have the same question on his first funeral. Despite his better thinking, he answered with the first thing that came to mind, now and back then too.

“I guess the livings are afraid that she could come back.”

His wife gasped from shock but Roy’s eyes simply widened.

“But she… auntie won’t come back, won’t she?”

“There’s no coming back. You know, usually, people say that death is an eternal sleep.”

Roy frowned.

“I wouldn’t like to sleep in a box. Even for eternity.”

Amelia looked between the both of them, unable to believe they were having this kind of conversation. How could they…? Wasn’t it too harsh for a child this age?

“Me neither. It’s getting cold, isn’t it? We should go back.”

Bradley extended one hand to the boy. Roy took it without hesitation, although it was the first time he’d accepted a physical contact with the man since being an infant. Amelia took his other hand, as if they were shielding him from the numerous graves around them.

“So coffins are to reassure us?” the kid went on.

“Dying is scary after all.”

Roy did shiver at that, but kept walking. Brad noticed the glare Mrs. Bradley was giving him and wondered if he was too direct. But somehow, he felt as if he had to warn Roy right now. Dead people didn’t come back. Never. If that crazy idea was ever to get in his head…

“But what… what makes us alive in the first place?” Roy asked.

Maybe were the questions and answers helping him keeping his mind off the many more questions he could have for the future. Putting his aunt in a box meant cutting himself from the last family he had. He was officially alone now. And although Amelia loved him now, since he was a cute little thing she could cuddle… Wouldn’t that change eventually? After facing so many losses, Roy was terrified at the idea of being rejected or abandoned. He wouldn’t voice it. A grown boy from his age shouldn’t…

“Our hear…” Amelia started.

“Our soul.” King cut her off.

“Oh… Like our spirit? It sounds complicated.”

That lightened the mood, until Roy asked a new question that made Bradley more nervous than any funeral ever could.

“But say, what if someone had more than one soul in their body? Could they get hurt as bad as auntie and still survive?”

“Souls don’t work like that.” Amelia intervened.

“Where do you get such idea at your age? One person can only have one soul,” King said.

And somehow, he didn’t sound that much convinced, because the principle fitted with all of his brothers and sister. They used human souls to fuel their regenerative skills. And he had used human souls too, although they had _mostly_ used him.

“I don’t know… It’s only… dying sounds so easy. And I don’t want any of you two to die.”

They were nearing the car now and Roy stopped at the same time they halted in their steps.

“Sweetie, we’re not going to die. Neither of us.” Amelia tried to tell him as she kneeled in front of him, putting her hands on each of his small shoulders.

“You can’t be sure. It’s never sure. I’m… I’m scared.”

King looked over his shoulder, back to the row of graves. Hundreds of them. His anger rose and he still had to let it out on something, anything.

_Contain it. No need to scare the boy anymore than he already is._

“Roy, listen here. Amelia and I, we’ve been through more than you’d think possible. We’re lucky, but we’re also strong and hard-headed.” He added, Mustang actually smiling a little. “I can’t promise anything, but we’ll do our best not to die until you’re big enough to take care of yourself. And afterwards. I intend to get pretty old, you know.”

He ruffled his short hair and Roy finally let his confusing emotions take over, tears rolling down his cheeks, extending an arm toward Amelia. She brought him into a hug and the road back home felt as shameful as before. But King was starting to believe he could pull off being a father, even though he had no idea what he was doing.

Leaving on the next morning was harder than usual. Amelia kissed him as if they might never see each other again, and the sleepy eyed little boy by her side looked so out of place. Bradley didn’t know if he should hug him, pat his head or just ignore him. He had never expected a father figure in his own life. He knew the kid needed help, from both Amelia and him. As a child, King had foregone his own affective needs to survive, internalizing all kind of habits that made little sense in the human word. He hadn’t managed a volunteer smile before the awful try he’d made as he’d met his reflection, over 12 years ago. He didn’t wish his past awkwardness to rub on Roy.

In the end, King decided that he’d rather use his usual way around kids. Ordering them around.

“Look after my wife, young man.”

“I sure will!”

…

Reaching Resembool took an entire day. Going past the border was trickier, but King had his ways, and Baron was actually pretty good at trekking. Or illegally crossing a border. Butcher assisted well and they had reached a small village of Ishval in less than 72 hours. They had changed to look like ordinary people, not high class civilians, or even Amestrians. King was growing a beard and with the dirt from the road, they were all closer to vagrants than anything. The Ishvalans were weary, but accepted to give them shelters and food in exchange for honest labor. King didn’t ask anyone about alchemy. He simply opened his ears and his eyes.

A week later, they had heard from an alchemist who had been travelling from Xin, a man with hair like gold and deep knowledge, who happened to teach any honest scholar in the science of alkahestry.

Bradley had put Baron up as the one among them who really wanted to learn, but it was soon clear that the alkahestry master had left the border of Ishval for some years, going back on another travel. In their search, the three soldiers collected clues, even a book of notes that red like xinese to each of them, but they weren’t closer to finding their alchemist. King considered it a set-back, but decided that they’d better move back to their country and look for alchemists as quickly as possible. He had to visit Dublith on his way back and couldn’t exactly lose time with the deal he’d strike with the current Fuhrer.

As they crossed back to Resembool, getting down the mountains and stopping by a small pond to restock their water, the three men encountered a tall traveler, wearing glasses and a forlorn expression behind schooled features. Bradley only saw the golden eyes and hair and the exact traits of his Father in the man, which had him turning livid right on the spot. His soldiers noticed how he tensed and wondered if the guy could be a threat. But while the mysterious traveler looked like Father -which could mean Envy was playing tricks on him-  King realized that he wasn’t in front of his hated Father. The way he held himself, the very way he looked back at him with his eyes. Eyes that were more human than anything Father ever created.

“Is something wrong, sir?” Baron asked him, being careful not to sound too formal.

They were still pretending at being civilians and gathering attention was the last thing King wanted, but the coincidence couldn’t be a coincidence. He recovered from the shock while the stranger motioned to get back on his way after exchanging a brief salute with them.

“I think I’ve met you before.” King whispered, instantly grabbing Hohenheim’s attention.

The man looked up nonchalantly, but Wrath noticed a spark of interest mixed with shock in his eyes.

Golden eyes. He’d never seen them on anyone except from…

“I don’t think we did…”

“Might be my mind playing tricks on me. All this hiking… Where are you going?” he asked as casually as he could manage.

“A bit of everywhere.”

That sounded suspicious, but King motioned as subtly as possible to both of his men to lay low. He wouldn’t get answers if they scared him away. So instead of surrounding the man, Barron joined up, sounding relaxed and easy-going:

“That sounds nice! We’ve gone pretty much all around Amestris ourselves, but does that mean you’ve been to other countries? I’d like to hear about your travels. The borders aren’t always this easy to cross.”

The blond man scrapped the back of his head, an attitude that almost sent Bradley reeling from the shock of seeing anyone looking like Father acting so… human-like.

“Well… I guess the sun is already that high. Might as well take our lunch.” Butcher suggested. “How about joining us and talking about our respective travels?”

It sounded too easy, but the man accepted as soon as food was in sight and King found himself sitting on a log, enjoying the fresh air and the company, exchanging travel stories with the three other men.

“The name’s Hohenheim.” The blond traveler admitted after three sandwiches and a share of scotch. “Van Hohenheim. I find it hard to stay in one place.”

“I know what you mean.” Butcher cheered. “I’ve had a dozens different homes, but none that seemed real. I feel better moving around.”

“I think Brad is the only one who’d rather be at home. Happily married and all.” Baron teased.

“Shut it, Bar. I’m never really home. There’s always something forcing me away from it.”

The talk went on, either philosophic or stupid, but either way, Hohenheim eased up, to the point where he asked a question that Bradley hadn’t expected.

“Say… Brad, was it? Where did you meet me, if we did meet before? I have a better memory than this usually…”

King shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know. Maybe… Some dark place in Central.” He said, on a lower tone, his tattooed eye throbbing beneath the patch.

Hohenheim froze a bit, clearly knowing something.

“I might have been drunk then, because you looked different,” King went on, motioning for him to come closer, as if he was going to tell him a secret.

If this was Envy, he would have smelled it long ago. If that Hohenheim fellow tried anything, he’d kill him right on the spot, but something told him that he could do better than that.

“White robes, grand room. Tubes on the wall. Like some giant… flask.”

The word came out as a surprise for Bradley himself, but the effect on Van was instantaneous. He grabbed King’s shoulder in a vice, his eyes wide and suddenly Baron and Butcher were back to being soldiers, taking out their guns, aiming for his head.

“How…?!”

“At ease, men.” The colonel interfered. “Listen, Van Hohenheim, you know I’m not talking nonsense and I need to understand…”

“Who… what are you?” the man asked, clearly sensing something.

The ouroborous tattoo was burning up and King almost bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood as he tried to endure whatever Van was doing to him. This was an alchemy he had never felt before, but it definitely was alchemy.

“I have the same question for you. But before that anyone of us panic, Butcher, Baron, you’ll leave us to talk alone for a few minutes.”

“But sir…!”

“It’s an order!”

Hohenheim seemed ready to move away, but he was too curious to leave right then and after a third incentive, the lieutenants walked out of hearing distance, crossing their arms or kicking at the ground. Hohenheim let go of Bradley’s shoulder and Wrath noticed the blood on his own sleeve. Somehow, the man had plunged his fingers right into his flesh. There was no wound left, but only the traces of the fact.

“A soldier, but…”

“You’re not an homunculus, aren’t you?” King asked, letting go of prudence once and for all.

Van covered his face with one hand, sighing deeply.

“And you’re partly one, as I can tell. So you’ve meet Him.”

“How many of…”

“…men with this face are there? Only myself and… whatever you call what you met in Central.”

“But you’re… you look human.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Bradley, huh? He infused your body with a stone, but you remained human… Although… There was something in that stone, something more than just human souls.”

King felt suddenly overwhelmed by the fact he was face to face with someone who could tell what he was and describe his situation perfectly. Could he even trust such a man? Was it entirely a man or not?

“His Wrath, or so he called it. How do you know all that? You know him, don’t you?”

“From the look on your face, he never told you about me.”

“He doesn’t tell me anything. At least, nothing other than his plans. But you…”

“I understand that this is a shock. And since you’re not capturing me or trying to drag me to him, I’m guessing you might have more sense than the other homunculi.”

He knew about them too! King was starting to wonder if he hadn’t walked right into a trap… He was doing all he could to remain as quiet and impassive as possible, but Hohenheim noticed his anxiety rising.

“Maybe we should slow down for now. Any explanation I could give you would only boggle your mind.”

“Did you ever see Envy’s true form? Or watch Gluttonny eat? My mind is pretty tough. And I need at least some kind of explanation.”

Van sighed before shooting a quick glance at the lieutenants that stared at them with their arms crossed over their chest.

“You have pretty loyal men. I wonder why he’d need a military man among his creations…”

The comment revived King’s anger. Being reduced to a pawn, hearing someone saying it, with that damn face too!

“He didn’t _create_ me.” He hissed between his teeth. “I was entirely human before the damn stone.”

It sounded childish when he heard it out loud, but he didn’t let his expression falter. Van raised both hands in front of him in a gesture of peace.

“I’m a scholar and not very good at being tactful. I’d like to talk some more, but I can’t let this _man_ know of my whereabouts. The time hasn’t come yet.”

“What? I wouldn’t…”

“I don’t think you’re ready to hear this story.”

Now the damn bearded man was patronizing him!

“You won’t know unless you try me.”

King thought he knew his Father before. But what Van Hohenheim knew was terrifying. And somehow, beyond the fear, Bradley saw a brilliant possibility. The plan had been a mere seed in his mind, but now he might have find himself a real ally. As long as Father didn’t learn of his meeting with the man…

To be continued…


End file.
